There are certain phrases you never want to hear a doctor say.
“Hmm, that’s unusual.”
“Are you sitting down?”
And in my case:
“Actually… you’ve got two hernias.”
Yep. One big beast on the right, and a smaller, sneaky sidekick on the left. Like a Marvel villain with a comedy sidekick — Hernia & Mini-Me.
The Big Decision
So what’s the plan, Doc? Fix the big one and leave the little guy for later? Nope.
Turns out hernias are like fonts: if you’re already digging around in the file, you might as well outline everything.
So it’s bilateral hernia surgery. One set of cuts, the same amount of stitches, possibly double the recovery.
Basically the medical version of a client asking: “Since you’re already designing the logo, can you just whip up a brochure too?”
A Year of Waiting
Simple, right? Except then came the waitlist.
Twelve months. A whole year.
A year of me living with what felt like a balloon animal trying to escape my groin. A year of women’s shapewear with padding shoved in strategic places. A year of “adjusting myself” in public like I was warming up for the State of Origin.
Meanwhile, I’m still working as a designer.
Client deadlines stacking up, proofs flying back and forth, urgent phone calls — while I’m secretly lying on the floor trying to push my intestines back in with one hand and answer emails with the other.
“Sure, Sharon, I can meet your print deadline… just as soon as I stop mine from becoming a medical emergency.”
Dad Life vs. Hernia Life
And then there’s the kids. Three of them. All under six.
Bedtime chaos. School runs. Constant snack demands. My two-year-old (11kg of clingy cuteness) insisting on being carried everywhere — while the doctors are telling me not to lift anything heavier than a packet of marshmallows.
At one point I was flat on my back on the lounge, groaning, while my toddler climbed on me like I was a theme park ride.
Her: “Wheeee!”
Me: “Please don’t rupture Daddy’s right side, I still need the left for balance.”
Deadlines Have Changed
Here’s the thing: pre-op life is just deadlines.
Design deadlines. Dad deadlines. And hernia deadlines.
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Design deadline: “Logo revisions due by Friday.”
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Dad deadline: “Remember it’s book week dress-up at school.”
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Hernia deadline: “Don’t sneeze too hard before surgery or your intestines will RSVP early.”
Dad Lesson Learned
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living with twin hernias, it’s this:
Deadlines can wait. Kids can scream. Clients can grumble. But your body? It’ll just keep bulging away, waiting until you finally get that phone call.
Double or nothing, baby.
The Hernia Diaries: Sit-ups were a mistake.
About the Author:
Rob Allen is a graphic designer, dad of three under six, and unwilling hernia expert. When he’s not juggling deadlines or nappies, he’s writing The Hernia Diaries from the couch — one ice pack and stool softener at a time.
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