How did I end up writing this story bed-bound with an iced filled condom to my bruised coochie coo? I had been in Germany less than twenty-four hours when I ended up in the hospital. Two surgeries later, I have a disfigured vagina and an excellent bike story to go with it.
(Warning - contains graphic imagery.)
Before I tell you the juicy details as to how I ended up like this, let us go back and rewind, back to the beginning, why I left Panama and ended up in Germany.
A love story in the making.
I was living in Playa Venao Panama, renovating the Submarine With Wheels bus and working as a surf instructor. At the same time, Henning, a German boy, was traveling and surfing through Mexico when he met my sister and ex bus member, Danielle. They became friends while surfing the most epic wave breaks in Barra De La Cruz and Puerto Escondido in Oaxaca. Danielle was destined to travel down to Panama and visit the bus once again. Asked if he wanted to join, Henning said, "Yes" and came along for the adventure.
Boys meets girl and bus.
I met Henning when he arrived at my Submarine With Wheels bus in Panama. Along with my sister and friend Kat, we were surfing, living and renovating the bus. Life was fun, and we all lived day by day enjoying each other's company and the relaxed lifestyle by the coast.
One day Henning offered to help paint the roof of the bus, I took a photo of him. His eyes were the colour of the ocean, and there was something special about him. After a while of living together, I realized Henning was a gentleman. He is handsome, kind, caring, weirder than I, and makes me laugh like a child.
Like a summer romance, it only took a week before we fell for each other and were inseparable. After that, we realized we had no option but to see each other again and be together. So, we followed our hearts and I booked flights to meet in Germany two months later.
Romance over bring on the blood.
My first day in Germany was a beautiful sunny day. Henning had just prepared breakfast and coffee in his apartment. We wished to go bicycle riding around town and do some sightseeing.
Henning had two typical city slicker style bicycles. Not the regular cruiser or mountain bikes I used. One crucial difference was the straight steel bar that joined the seat to the handlebars.
Wanting to give it a test ride, I jumped on the bike and pedalled 2m. The bike was a little high but rideable.
As I dismounted the bike, I tilted my body to the left to place my left foot on the ground. However, not remembering the metal bar just below my crutch, I slammed my vagina onto the steel. Instant OUCH!! I almost fainted with pain. I closed my eyes and thought to check if everything down there was OK.
Strolling towards Hennings apartment, I could feel a burning tenderness between my legs. I reached the bathroom and took a glance at my vagina. My left labia had swollen, making my clitoris twice its size. Inconveniently, I got my period yesterday, so I assumed all the swelling was due to the increase in blood flow to the vaginal area. For this reason, I didn't think much more than the incident being temporary inflammation due to the injury. At that assumption and tenderness, our bicycle date was a disaster, and I sat on the couch for ten minutes with a bag of ice to my crutch. We laughed at that fantastic attempt at sightseeing.
Thirty minutes later we decided to go for a walk to the river. Hand in hand, we walked towards the Reine river. However, I continually slowed down our pace due to my sensitive vagina. Over the next 15 minutes, I started to wince as the pain progressed. We went to sit in a café where I could assess the situation. In the café bathroom, I was hurting as I peeled off my pants. The swelling had grown significantly larger and tender. I was in shock and knew I had to go to the hospital immediately. Henning took one glance, agreed, and went to get the car.
With an odd look at the café, I asked the waiter for a glass of ice with no water. I slowly retreated to the female toilet. Luckily the café was quiet as there was no way I would sacrifice moving ice away from my enormous growth. With every passing minute, it was growing and stinging more and more. I am not one to weep, but this pain was becoming unbearable, and I could feel a tear rolling down my face. But I stayed strong and wiped that tear away. Adrenaline kicked in, and I knew what I needed, get to a hospital fast.
Hospital here we come.
What felt like an eternity, my prince charming came to my rescue with some Ibuprofen. I downed the drugs and waddled like a fat penguin to the car.
The closest hospital was ten minutes. At first glance from the clinic staff, I was questioned if I was pregnant. With my full waddle, aching face, an oversized jumper, it was highly presumable. However, no, this accidental lump was unwanted.
Within minutes we were inside an examination room waiting to be seen by medical staff. When I looked between my legs, it was a purple engorged mess. All I could think about was that scene from "There's Something About Mary," where the leading character gets his balls and penis stuck in his trouser zipper, and the brother yells, "Franks and Beans." But I was looking at my vagina, thinking I don't know what would be the franks and what would be the beans.
At one glance, the doctor confirmed I needed further medical attention immediately. Thank god I purchased medical travel insurance a week prior.
Despite being inside a hospital, I was unable to get the necessary professional help I required at this clinic. Promptly, the doctor found a gynaecologist and hospital close by waiting for my immediate arrival.
At this point, it was getting so big it was looking like a hard penis through my cute g –string. Yet, there was nothing attractive about this situation. I was starting to imagine maybe this is how the drag queens off Ru Paul's drag race duck backstage.
So back to the car, I waddled, and we drove another fifteen minutes to the next hospital where we headed up to the Gynaecological ward. Now I looked the part as a pregnant lady. I was not smiling, as I was holding my back and hip wincing in pain as I walked legs spread as far as they could. I was unable to sit, so I stood leaning against the wall, breathing calmly, hoping that someone would come soon.
Diagnosis.
Finally, a gynaecologist came. We entered another examination room. With no time to waste, she immediately confirmed a vaginal hematoma, a bleeding blood vessel due to trauma. The hematoma was pooling blood into my left vaginal soft tissue. It had grown 7cm x 4cm in size and would require immediate surgery to drain the blood.
In an instant, the operating room and surgery were confirmed. My nursing degree had well prepared me for this moment. I was not scared at all. I was pumped, and I knew this was my only option if elephantiasis vagina was ever to look the same.
In preparation for surgery, I laid on the operating table. One last glance at my vagina, I could not even recognise myself. It was a foreign alien. As the drugs drifted me off into sedation, I prayed for this alien to go back to outer space and my vagina to return to its cute little pink peach self once again.
You would hope that after surgery, I rested, and the ordeal was over. No. Midnight I woke in agony and buzzed the nurse for assistance. I looked down and was mortified to see the alien had returned. But this time, it was more extensive and even more hideous than before.
Within minutes I was back in the operating room. I joked about seeing the same nurses and to please remove my fully engorged throbbing penis.
I was bed-bound and remained in the hospital for three days after the surgeries. At least the German hospital was clean. I shared a private room with one other lady. I had a view of a park, and Henning bought me ice cream, treats, and gave me foot massages.
Recovery.
It has almost been a week, and I am on a slow road to recovery. I am continually putting iced condoms to my blue, temporarily blemished vagina. The only comfortable position is lying down and waddling around the apartment like a penguin. On the upside, no bones had broken, and there are no other medical complications than bruising and swelling. Fingers crossed, I heal with increased sensitivity from all the bruising and swelling.
The past week I have learned a lot about the relationship to my lady bits, which I can compare to my friend's Ellie's project. I modeled my vagina in a photo-shoot for her upcoming coffee book at www.comfortableinmyskin.com.au
Ellies goal is to educate and empower women about the normality of vagina labia through other women's stories. Since spreading my legs in her project and my recent injury this is what I have realised. Regardless of the different sizes, colours or shapes, my vaginal has transformed, as long as it functions correctly, serving its womanly purpose, that's all that matters to me.
Until then, it will forever be a hilarious story and a great welcoming to Germany. Day by day, I am getting better, aiming for fast recovery so I can consummate this love.
For the next six weeks, Henning and I will enjoy Europe before returning to Australia in December. We will both return to the Submarine With Wheels bus and adventure in Panama sometime in 2020.
Comments