So I had to have emergency surgery on Thursday night for appendicitis. It's good to be alive and all, but going to the hospital is just downright humiliating.

First, you get in there and they make you take off your clothes and put on a skirt. A skirt that's specifically engineered so that it's impossible to get on or off the bed without showing the world your junk.

Then they poke you, push on your guts, take a look at your balls, maybe fondle them and ask you to do something pointless like cough.

From there it's off to the OR, where your junk is sheared like a sheep. Seriously, they just pull out the clippers and mow a giant bald spot right above your dong so that your unit looks like it's suffering an acute case of male pattern baldness.

To top it all off, they drug the ever-loving shit out of you, so that when you come to you're flailing about, screaming incoherently at no one in specific. When they finally calm you down, you're so out of it that you start talking about all kinds of inappropriate subject matter. Namely, that someone shaved your junk and now a bunch of people have seen it. Then you start to worry out loud about the fact that you work at this hospital, and you're not sure you like sharing your oddly shaven no-no parts with co-workers you've not previously met.

Then, you wake up the next morning, groggy, in more pain than you were in before you came to the hospital, and it starts all over again. Nurses and doctors are gawking at the new haircut your 'Mini Me' got, while poking and prodding and asking stupid questions like "Does this hurt?" Yes it hurts, but the physical pain is not nearly as bad as the emotional trauma.

Just great. I hope I never see those people again. I mean, how would you feel? I might see these people again at work, while I'm walking down the hall or giving a presentation, and the first thing I'll think of is "She's seen my dong with a bad haircut" or worse, "That's the guy that held my balls while I coughed for him."

Fucking great.