Shh...Don't talk about it

It was bright day. There was a kitty party at a friend's. That meant"No Coooking". Yippee. The theme for the day was white. So I fished out a white salwar kameez from the big dump in the wardrobe and started brushing my hair. The TV was on and was enjoying the live telecast of Asian Games. Suddenly it struck. A shooting pain in the .....you know where. Again and again the spasms took the breath out of me. Though we all say the sentence each time someone is unpleasant, I knew for first time how bad it can get.

Tears rolled down without even crying. The pain was excruciating. I called my friends to let them know that I would not be able join them for the party. Immediately, they wanted to know the reason. Now how do you tell another person that you have a pain ....you know where. I said" tummyache". They said they are coming over to enquire. I could not stop them. So I gathered my courage to spell it out. They came with medicine, one of them being a doc's wife. I have pain around the openings , I said. Openings...what openings, the engineer's wife wanted to know. Thankfully the other understood. She was a Gastro's daughter too.

The pain was unbearable now. So I called hubby and he came over. My friends were there. I lost shame in pain. I burst out "My *&# is paining". Poor guy. He turned the deepest red. I could not stand straight. They helped me to the lift. On ground floor, the caretaker wanted to know what the problem was. Before I blurted out anything, poor hubby said "backache". At the hospital, the first attendant was a male. Hubby had gone to park the car. So this time over he was lucky not to hear it. They gave me an injection, ran me through tests including a scan and found nothing significant. But the pain killer helped. And I learnt the meaning of the oft used phrase.