Honey, Did You See My Woodburning Kit?

Once again, I have been remiss in keeping up my blog. I wish I could tell you that I have been incredibly busy (which I have been) and unable to put one out at least twice a week. I wish I could say that, but I can’t. Unfortunately, by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is look at my computer and, when I do, it is to check my company emails. How boring is that? So I better get it done during the day…at work!

Anyway, due to my constant need to find humor in everything that is miserable, I was able to come up with something to talk about today.

Remember the surgery I just had? And remember how my physician was unable to get to the last tumor without cracking my prostate? Well, he got to it yesterday!! And let me say one thing; there is no such thing as a simple procedure.

Let’s start our day at 6:30 in the morning as you get your butt out of bed after having slept soundly through the night. All of a sudden it hits you. You have to be at your doctor’s office at 9 AM for a “quick” procedure to remove a tumor in your bladder. The reason why it is not being done in the hospital is because your doctor’s equipment is better than the hospital’s and it allows him to have greater mobility inside your bladder. ALARM BELL #1

You get to your doctor’s office at 9AM and are immediately whisked into the Scope Room. This is a room that contains a middle age looking device with an eyepiece and a long black tube that would allow you to scratch your ass through your nose. This device is hanging on the wall with a bag of fluid and an electric prod next to it. ALARM BELL #2

You lay down on the exam table after removing your clothes and have a paper sheet draped over your midsection. Your nurse starts to put a numbing gel on your schmekl and tells you that you need to lay there and let it “do its thing” and the doctor will be in shortly. You ask, both jokingly and pleadingly at the same time, if perchance they may have a fistful of pills that you could swallow before the show starts. The reason is that you have never shit your pants in public before but there is always a first time and you are thinking that today may be that special day. Your loving nurse looks at you, pats your hand and says, “…don’t worry, you’ll be fine and it will be over quickly” ALARM BELL #3

In comes your doctor. My doc is a great guy. He loves what he does and he is really good at it. He is also one of these guys who believes in doing as much as he can in his office because his equipment is really good and he can “churn ‘em out”.

The first thing he does when he walks in the room is to tell me what he will be doing this morning. This is like telling someone who is about to be hanged exactly how you are about to kill him. A totally unnecessary discussion.

My response to all of this is absolutely nothing because I have stopped breathing normally and am slowly starting to pass out. After regaining some form of composure, we start the “procedure” which will involve my tumor being burned out, via cauterization” versus being cut out due to the blood thinners that I am on.

Without further ado, I see my doc remove the torture device from the wall while at the same time the nurse slaps a sticky object to my leg which, I find out later, is the grounding for the device which uses electric impulses to burn the tumor away.

I am now trying to go to a happy place. You start to see a beautiful pasture with wild flowers and children running through the field as your doctor says, “Hold on, I am going to hit it with a single short burst.” The image disappears as you initially suck the paper on the exam table up your ass because you are flexing so hard. Your doc, in his infinite bedside manner says, “…you need to relax, because I have to move this scope a little to get a better shot at it.” You go back to another happy place, this time on the blue, pristine waters of the Keys just as your doc goes, “…okay, this time I have a good shot at it. I am so sorry that this hurts, Dan, but I need to increase the power. I promise this is going to be it.”

You are just about to toss out your line at a passing bonefish when there is a new feeling that you have never had before. Could it be? Did your bladder just explode or did your doc just accidentally melt your nuts? And as quickly as that, it is over!

Your doc smacks you on the chest and tells you how great you are to put up with that pain and how everything is gone. The device has been removed and your doc scoots out of the room because he knows that if he sticks around, and I get my strength back, he will never father another child again.

As I eventually stumble out to the reception area, after getting dressed of course, my dear wife is standing there holding two prescriptions. One is for Avodart, a medication that keeps everything flowing, and the other is for CIPRO, the last resort antibiotic. This is the stuff that you get if we are ever attacked biologically. It is the only antibiotic that works and I have been on it, on and off, for the last two years. And, because of that, if we ever are attacked, CIPRO will no longer work for me. Great. At least, my bladder will be healthy.

Oh, and I forgot, I have a follow up in two weeks…ALARM BELL #4