Anti-climax
I was supposed to have surgery today. Six weeks ago a cyst on my back that had been benign suddenly decided to get all angry, grow to the size of a ping-pong ball and then burst on me while I was at a birthday party. That involved a trip to the hospital at 1.30am and visits to the nurse every other day since then.
I thought today was going to be the end of the affair because the GP had reffered me to a surgeon who would cut out the root so the cyst wouldn't come back again. I wasn't too worried about it because it seemed quite simple (here's what would have happened). Bit of local anaesthetic, scalpel, tweezers, knick knack paddy-whack give the dog a bone and then this old man goes rolling home.
I did intend to drive there and then drive back myself but got a barrage of protest about that from my family. Has even kindly offered, or to be more accurate, stubbornly insisted, to help me go there even though he has exams next week. I think he was more interested in coming so he could see the surgery. He's been begging me for weeks to see the wound but he can't see it because it's under a dressing. He asked me if it was a branchial cyst was because Kim says that branchial cysts come before gills in the evolutionary chain. That means I'd be able to breathe underwater. I could be Aquaman. That would have been so cool. Unfortunately my cyst was sebaceous so there's no deep-sea living for me. That was anti-climax number one.
In the end I went on my own anyway because when it was time to go this morning he was still fast asleep...and still is. Got there, went inside and saw the surgeon. I also saw the operating table and his little tool kit and then suddenly got a little nervous about it all. He had a look at my back and said he would have to cut the root out but couldn't do it yet because the wound hadn't healed properly yet. What an anti-climax. To be honest I was kind of relieved but it would have been good if he'd just done it there and then. Now I have to wait until after exams. That was anti-climax number 2.
I thought today was going to be the end of the affair because the GP had reffered me to a surgeon who would cut out the root so the cyst wouldn't come back again. I wasn't too worried about it because it seemed quite simple (here's what would have happened). Bit of local anaesthetic, scalpel, tweezers, knick knack paddy-whack give the dog a bone and then this old man goes rolling home.
I did intend to drive there and then drive back myself but got a barrage of protest about that from my family. Has even kindly offered, or to be more accurate, stubbornly insisted, to help me go there even though he has exams next week. I think he was more interested in coming so he could see the surgery. He's been begging me for weeks to see the wound but he can't see it because it's under a dressing. He asked me if it was a branchial cyst was because Kim says that branchial cysts come before gills in the evolutionary chain. That means I'd be able to breathe underwater. I could be Aquaman. That would have been so cool. Unfortunately my cyst was sebaceous so there's no deep-sea living for me. That was anti-climax number one.
In the end I went on my own anyway because when it was time to go this morning he was still fast asleep...and still is. Got there, went inside and saw the surgeon. I also saw the operating table and his little tool kit and then suddenly got a little nervous about it all. He had a look at my back and said he would have to cut the root out but couldn't do it yet because the wound hadn't healed properly yet. What an anti-climax. To be honest I was kind of relieved but it would have been good if he'd just done it there and then. Now I have to wait until after exams. That was anti-climax number 2.
Never mind. Two great games of football await today - Arsenal v Spurs and Liverpool v Chelsea. Hopefully those won't be another anti-climax.
I could have been this man.
posted by Mus at 12:45
2 Comments:
hey hope the wound heals soon. can't believe you are makin a joke out of it. it must hurt like hell.
Mermusman sound kooolioooo!!! :-D
PJ is not good anymore cos she is screwed. She has been trying to print her essay. The rejected prints are piling. She should shut her eyes and stop editing her essay. Ah the joy of printing an essay...
Good luck with printing your essays!!
The end is near.. oh yes it is near...
Thanks PJ. Mermusman sounds good. Means that if I fail my exams I can still get a job on the circus freakshow.
The wound doesn't actually hurt at all. The only painful time was when the cyst was growing. Thank God that's all over!
Good luck with your essay and exams. The end of uni is near but that means that the start of a new beginning is near too. Enjoy!
Post a Comment
<< Home