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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Was my blood loss genuinely stigmata? My doctor had a possible explanation.

Stigmata, that curious loss of blood from undamaged flesh that manifests in saints and mystics, was something I never expected to experience myself; and yet I was once faced with the possibility that I too had been singled out to bear witness to some feckless Deity with a sense of humour, and too much time on his hands.

It happened during the 1980s. I was doing cycle training for triathlon when, inexplicably, I began to bleed.

Make no mistake about my reaction: I was alarmed. Would this mean that I was destined to become a mystic myself? Would I be required to abandon the pleasures of the flesh, only to spend my waking hours in prayer and contemplation in some secluded monastery, while having video confirmation of my sainthood going viral on YouTube?

This was not something to be taken lightly and as soon as I arrived home I telephoned for an urgent medical appointment.

With so many sports-related, and booze-related incidents happening, Saturdays are always busy at our local hospital and private appointments are practically impossible but, when I explained what was happening, my doctor agreed to leave his barbecue and meet me at his surgery.

I don’t suppose I can blame the man for what happened next. Rather than leave his friends behind he brought them along to view this rare physical manifestation. His wife came, and his kids, and his barbecue guests. There were at least ten people crammed into a consulting room meant to hold only a couple of patients at best.

Finally he asked me to uncover the offending body part and, considering the party atmosphere that had developed around me I found that rather embarrassing.

Cameras were produced. Photographs were taken. Comments were made. Wisecracks were passed. Laughter echoed from the walls.

Then, when this skilled physician had completed his examination he said, to my relief, “You don’t have stigmata, Dozy.”

“I don’t?”

“You have what we in the medical profession call haemorrhoids.”

Submitted: June 11, 2012

© Copyright 2022 Dozy. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Kelly Marino

You killed me with this one!!!

Tue, June 19th, 2012 2:44pm


Nearly killed me, too. I'd just had my haemorrhoids injected by a doctor who had all the skill of a drunken bricklayer, and I was cycling home trying not to sit down. It occurred to me that it might be stigmata.

Tue, June 19th, 2012 1:19pm

Bill Rayburn

Very well written. Group discovery of such a malady can be disconcerting, I'd think....

A nice conversational flow to your prose; sentence structure adds rather then subtracts from the story.

Just might have to read that novella.


Wed, June 20th, 2012 12:09am


Thanks, Bill.

Tue, June 19th, 2012 6:22pm

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