"I have a rectal fissure!" whispered the raspy voice at the other end.
I sighed with relief. Thankfully it wasn't some weirdo calling me in the middle of the night; just a stranger with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.
"Who is this?" I demanded.
The woman on the line identified herself as a friend of a friend of a friend from the community pool. I had never officially met her, but I remembered her gold lamé swimsuit. She had heard through the grapevine that I was an expert in bleeding butt ulcers and wanted to meet in person to discuss hers.
I told her to meet me in back of the local 7-11 in ten minutes. I would be wearing sunglasses and driving a black sedan.
The woman did not show up wearing her gold swimsuit, but she did look pretty darn good for just having been diagnosed with Crohn's Disease.
I complimented the woman on her appearance before telling her that Prednisone would change all of that.
"Steroids make you F-A-T," I said authoritatively. The drug also makes you grow facial hair and gives you blurred vision, adult acne and stretch marks, but I kept all of this to myself. I didn't want to ruin the surprise.
"I knew that's what you were going to say," she said, nodding solemnly. The woman was taking the news so well that I thought that she also would be receptive to my thoughts on various brands of adult diapers.
I was wrong.
"That depends on how you look at it," I replied and started to giggle.
I could tell by the woman's facial expression that it wasn't a good time to ask if she wanted to sell me her swimsuit. I'm not that worried though. After two weeks on 60 milligrams, she'll change her mind.