In 2002, when my cervix was attempting to plummet to its death and I needed to seek advice on how to end its suffering, the surgeon my OB/GYN sent me to, when examining me in that horrible thumb up the pooper way, said, "You have the worst hemorrhoids I've seen in years. You must get them taken care of. How can you LIVE like this?" He was very judgemental of my waste disposal system.
Now, I had never thought much of my, well, hangers on. It was my understanding that everyone bleeds out of their butts, itches like ants were crawling on their bung holes and cries when they have to go #2 because nothing will come out. Apparently that's not the case. So, Mr. Terrible Bedside Manner referred me (forced me to go) to a colorectal surgeon. As if women weren't exposed to enough indignities on the exam table. When the CRS looked at me bum, though, he said that he could snip off the offender while I was under, immeditely following my ute extraction, and all would be well. He was so CONFIDENT. He told me that I would never have these problems again.