Search Results for: cheeseburger

TMI… Even For Me.

I believe we’ve determined that I don’t have a weak stomach.

I spent five years working for a law firm that specialized in medical malpractice defense and personal injury cases. Somewhere along the line I told you about my ability to peruse photos depicting bits of what was once a person’s leg before it traveled through a wood chipper. It was surprisingly surreal. Rather more like the set of a gory slasher film than some dude’s right leg.

I saw surgery photos, post-surgery horrors and read detailed medical records about a man who ignored a cyst for so long that, after it was drained, it left a cavity the size of a grapefruit requiring gauze packing. Ultimately, that neglected cyst robbed him of his ability to poop. (Attention: If you have a large cyst – especially on or near your anal cavity – run, run, I say – to your physician, because the last thing you want is some broad pouring over your medical records and highly graphic photos of your anus while she noshes on falafel.)

Are you still with me? I realize it’s highly likely that I lost a considerable number of potential readers with that last paragraph…

The reason I provided that bit of nasty background information was simply to prepare you for what is to come. I am about to share my circuitous adventure through the darker regions of the internet. That scary, horrible place you stumble across when you make the grave mistake of combining the idiocy of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills with Google searches.

Last Wednesday night I was reading a book. For some odd reason, I like to read/write/think to the soundtrack of whatever morons Bravo or E! is airing at any given moment of the day. Turns out that on Wednesday night, I was listening some woman named Alexis yammer on about her sinuses and the reason she wasn’t having a “nose job.”

So…after her nose job, she brought a camera crew to her follow-up appointment. She was attired in the requisite post-plastic surgery uniform – a Juicy sweat suit, fedora and a giant pair sunglasses resting upon her heavily bandaged nose  – when she informed her doctor that he “beat the hell out her.” Needless to say, I completely dropped my book when I realized the surgeon whipped out a picture showing exactly what he “pulled out of her nasal passages.”

Of course I had to look, but because I was actually reading and only semi-listening, I missed the picture!

I wanted to see the photo showing a giant gob of slime that her doctor called a “nasal mucus plug.”

So immediately this woman’s nasal mucus plug became all about me because, in addition to my stomach of steel, I’m self-absorbed and obsessed with my own on-going sinus issues. I’ve been avoiding surgery for two years. As I type, the left side of my face feels like someone is repeatedly plunging a knife into it. It’s been that way all week so Alexis’s mucus got me wondering about my own potential sinus mucus plug.

I Googled “sinus mucus plug.”

No, I didn’t find any photos of nasal mucus plugs, but I was lucky enough to stumble across a Google image of what I initially believed was someone’s nasal mucus plug.

Silly me…turns out some over-zealous pregnant gal wanted to share what her pregnancy mucus plug looked like. You know, for all those people who are just dying to know.

Seriously? You swiped a gob of mucus from your hoo-ha, took a picture of it and posted it on the internet?!

As if that wasn’t enough insanity for one pregnancy board discussion thread… after that brave gal posted her plug, it began a trend. Now it seems that proud passers of plugs from all over the US of A want to show off their mucus. And no two are alike.

I know this because I looked at them.

I don’t know why. Call it morbid fascination. Shock and awe. Disgust. Disbelief.

I shook my head and wondered what type of person would post photos of her….her…mucus plug?

Then I remembered that I filled the world in on Cheeseburger Crotch. Sans photographic attachments of course. I tend to limit my over-sharing to descriptive phrases versus photographic displays.

So, a few nights later Dave and I sat down to eat and, for some reason, I decided to share my internet discovery as he took a bite of his dinner. I was still in shock. Apalled that women thought it appropriate to share photos of this stuff. I was embarassed for them – as if anyone perusing that freakish board would see through the screen names and be able to identify a person by her secretions.

“Oh, hey Sally! I saw your mucus plug pictures this morning. GORGEOUS…”

It’s truly hard to express these types of observations and opinions to a man. While he’s eating dinner.

I need a few more girlfriends.

What I Didn’t Expect When I Was Expecting. *WARNING: do not read if you’re squeamish and/or an in-law*

I’m not naive…let’s just get that out of the way right out of the box, but there is some funky business going down over here at No. 7 and, for once, it’s not of my doing. Since making the move to WordPress, I’ve discovered this magical place called Site Stats. It’s a far more magical place than Sitemeter ever was because within Site Stats exists the most magical realm of all. Its name is “Search Engine Terms”. Getting the picture? I can see what people are searching for when their proverbial ship comes to ground here on the beautiful yet slightly schizophrenic island of Narragansett No. 7.

I can’t stop myself. I love logging on and while my stats are loading, my level of anticipation builds to a frightening level.

Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please let there be just one more bizarre or filthy sounding search term in that queue!

I have started sharing the previous day’s weirdest and/or most offensive search terms on the Narragansett No. 7 Facebook wall. I own it, so I can do whatever I want to and, well…I want to. On Saturday morning I shared Friday’s winning search term which was as follows: “mom washing my penis”.


Well, I’m not entirely sure how that particular search landed Mr. McIssues at No. 7, but I want to thank him for the laugh.

As I pondered these strange and border-line repulsive searches conducted by people unknown to me, I recalled a time back before I was a mommy. Actually, I was technically very close to becoming a mommy for the first time. My stomach was freakishly large and I was enduring a heat wave in Boston which, for some odd reason, caused me to sit on the floor in front of a fan for an usually long period of time. I don’t know why. Maybe the hardwood floor felt cool, I don’t remember. Nonetheless, after lying around like a giant sow for what seemed like hours, I hoisted my grotesquely deformed self off the floor and began my pitiful end-of-pregnancy waddle toward the kitchen. Mid-waddle, it struck me that things weren’t quite right down below. Something was really out of place. I’d never had a baby before so you’ll understand that I was slightly alarmed when I realized that my entire crotch was swollen.

Yes, that’s right, I said my crotch was swollen.

Believe me…I had the same disgusted and horrified reaction except I actually grabbed a mirror and looked at it! After emitting a piercing scream, I ran-waddled to my laptop and began furiously searching Medline and OB/GYN sites for the cause of ‘giant swollen crotches in the 9th month of pregnancy.’

Evidently I wasn’t the first woman on the face of the Internet to suffer the malady because I immediately found a discussion board about the very subject. I know…what are the chances? Yet, it was on that very informative (and slightly off-putting) discussion board that I found a link for “Cheeseburger Crotch”. By that time I had determined I wouldn’t suffer death by swollen vaghooha and my swelling was likely due to the fact that I’d sat my big, fat pregnant ass on a hardwood floor while my baby’s head pressed on some nerve or something…yadda yadda and totally boring. BUT… Cheeseburger Crotch intrigued me. It might have even made me giggle just a little bit, so I clicked the link. Today, as I wrote about what is probably my most intimate and mortifying moment ever, I found myself Googling “Cheeseburger Crotch” again. Nearly seven years have passed since my brush with The Burger, and it appears that Cheeseburger Crotch is much more widely discussed in these enlightened times. WebMD has even dedicated an article discussing embarrassing pregnancy symptoms, one of which, as you can probably guess, being Cheeseburger Crotch.

Well, back there in 2004, I laughed really hard – at myself and my crotch. Then I did what any woman with freakishly swollen vagina would do. I called my sister.


Hey…so, I have Cheeseburger Crotch.


Yeah, Cheeseburger Crotch.

Ummm…(followed by some nervous laughter)

I got up and couldn’t walk right because my crotch got in the way.


Seriously. My crotch swelled so much I couldn’t walk, so I walked to the bathroom and looked at it because I thought maybe the baby’s head was coming out or something, but it was just REALLY swollen. So I did a web search and it turns out that I have Cheeseburger Crotch. [pause as I popped a salt & vinegar chip into my mouth] But don’t worry…it’s going away now.


I’ve gotta tell ya’…Cheeseburger Crotch is exactly the right description for what was going on down there.

I don’t really know what my sister said because she was laughing so hard. Until this very moment…right now…as I type…I have never discussed my run in with The Burger with anyone other than my sister simply because of all people on the face of this earth, she was the only one I knew who would laugh as hard I did.

 Yeah…I went there. Click the flashing box if you like fries with your burger.

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