Friday, February 02, 2007

I'll feed it bananas and teach it to twirl.

Yesterday evening Dr. Surgeon's appointment maker left me a message at about ten til five. When I called her back, she said these actual words, "Oh my gosh! Thank God you called me back!" After she assured me that the words 'imminent death' had nothing to do with her dramatic greeting, she informed me the guy with the knife needed me to come early.

"Why?" I asked.

Silence. Apparently no one in Dr. Surgeon's office is accustomed to questions.

Long story short, I woke up at the crack of dawn and drove to the Big City this morning so as not to upset the delicate Qi (chi) of the cutter. While its OK to be mean to him in a blog he will never read, I would never risk actually upsetting him in real life. In retribution he might sew my elbow to my vagina and that would greatly hamper my social life.

In the interest of truth, Dr. Surgeon was super nice today and not at all evil looking. He was all decked out in a great tie, slacks, expensive shoes and a crisp, white lab coat with his very own name embroidered over the pocket in a fancy font. Noticeably missing however, was the golden band on his married finger. I wanted to ask whether he had dumped Mrs. Surgeon or whether he lost it in someones lung, but the elbow-vagina thing stopped me.

Also in the room this morning was his trusty side-kick Dr. Medical Student. He was in scrubs the color of pond water and those little plastic shoes made popular by five year old girls and women who are too busy to tie. Or shop for real shoes.

Although he never spoke an actual word, he was far from silent. If my office visit was a movie, Dr. Medical Student was the guy who adds the cool sound effects that make everything so much more exciting.

Dr. Surgeon: "Your gall bladder is very thick."

Sidekick inserts a dramatic air sucking noise which rendered the room almost devoid of oxygen.

Dr. Surgeon: "You're going to need some additional tests prior to surgery."

Sidekick inserts a gulp that sounds like he just swallowed a large wad of cartoon gum.

Dr. Surgeon: "Now I'm going to say some random words that should technically scare you, but because I am going to also say the magic words 'abracadabra don't worry', they won't. Ready? Here we go. Colonoscopy, GYN Oncologist, sticking something down your throat and into your stomach."

Sidekick inserts the sound of galloping horses and finishes it off with a cat when it's in heat on a warm summer's night.

All in all, it was a super-dee-dooper great visit and I left there with a list of more doctors and more tests which must be completed prior to my surgery on the 23rd. I'm thinking by the time they're done with me in the Big City hospital, Dr. Surgeon will toss his scalpel and bring an ice cream scoop from home to make the hollowing out of my body that much easier.

"Look on the bright side," said my good friend and second ex-husband's third wife. "Everything they take out of you weighs something, right? It's an easy way to lose weight!"

"You're a regular motivational speaker," I said. I'm thinking of encouraging her to write her own Chicken Soup for the Surgical Patient's Soul book.

Although my ex-wife-in-law did her best to help me look on the sunny side of the knife, I must admit I'm not looking forward to these next couple weeks. After the year I've had of health issues here, there and everywhere, what I could really use now is some serious cheering up.

Anyone have a monkey they aren't using?

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1 comment:

Donna said...

At least, your sense of humor is still intact. They can't take THAT out of you. (I wish there was more I could say than just "good luck." I will be thinking good thoughts for you.)