Rad note » I am calling today's entry its own, separate entry .. but it is actually a continuation of this entry » The Existential No Man's Land Between Biopsy & Diagnosis - Part 2/2.
Beginning a week or two later. Things move quickly once you get diagnosed.
Here is the latest. Biopsies part deux. What I call the » 'chunks-of-flesh' biopsies.
» He lives! Had surgery earlier today. I am actually in no condition to to write. I have a wadded tissue stuffed up my right nostril. By now it is probably soaked with blood .. like the others.
Remind me to discuss the difference(s) in biopsy-methods between "fine-needle aspiration" .. and "chunks of flesh."
No, they dont call today's biopsies "chunks of flesh" .. but they could.
Way back on that (seemingly) fateful day in July .. when the dentist said, "This is not a tooth problem. You need to have a doctor look at this lymph node .. today!"
The day when a (seeming, hopefully, simply) tooth problem became a potential (then an actual, medically-diagnosed) malignant tumor ..
.. uh, it was on that day that a doctor was calling around to other (more specialized) doctors .. asking which route would represent the most bang for the diagnostic buck.
This is where the notions of "fine-needle aspirations" vs "chunks of flesh" first presented itself to me.
If this what I'm discussing here is grossing you out .. think how *I* feel.
Seeing it in Her Eye, Hearing it in Her Voice » My Asian Anesthesiologist
But there is a method to the biopsy-madness, which I may discuss at some other time.
Here is something I learned today » the "Michael Jackson drug" only lasts for a few minutes (depending on the dose, of course). But they use it to knock you out and then they KEEP you out .. with » gas.
[ You learn something new every day .. it seems. ]
I told my anesthesiologist » "If I was gonna be a doctor, I would like to be an anesthesiologist .. taking away people's pain."
The anesthesiologist said » "During your surgery, which is scheduled for an hour, I will stay with you the whole time."
[ That made me feel good. Very good indeed.
Because I passed-the-fuck-out during my previous biopsy, and my surgeon / doctor said » "You stopped breathing for fifteen seconds. I was not ready for that. Good thing that you told me that you were getting light-headed. How much do you weigh, anyway? [168.2] You are heavier than you look. You are solid. Dont do that any more." ..
(.. I am paraphrasing from an obviously compromised central nervous system and therefore memory. But that is (a part of) the gist that I got .. lying there on the floor.) ..
.. which he says as he's mixing up another batch of biopsy receptical-thingie, or something like that.
Most impressive skill-set. A pleasure to watch him work .. even from the freaking floor.
I actually felt safe with him. You can somehow sense competence. It's actually rarer than we-the-people might prefer. Sad to say.
Long Island Boys » A Tribute
Remind me to share with you my tribute about / to » Long Island boys.
My surgeon is a Long Island boy .. now a grown man, of course. He used to run the whole hospital. 'Chief-of-Staff' was the title he held .. rather recently.
But while it may appear that you can take the boy out of Long Island .. well, you know how the saying goes.
I know more than a few Long Island boys .. primarily from the four (4) years I spent station aboard a nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine .. as a reactor plant operator [ Mechanical / ELT ] ..
.. I dont know if the Navy actually PLANNED it this way .. but the Gold crew contained a lot of New England boys .. and the Blue crew contained a lot of Texans. Maybe it just happened that way randomly. Who knows?
Before I document my tribute to Long Island boys .. let me first note that .. if you found yourself a really big pole vault ..
.. and you RAN (real fast) right down the middle of Long Island .. and POLE-VAULTED OVER New York City .. so that you cleared the Hudson River ..
.. you would LAND smack-dab in Hoboken (Springsteen country) .. where the Dog grew up .. overlooking "the City." [ Yes, I have BEEN THERE, both to Hoboken and the City .. with the Dog, who knows his way around .. as you might imagine. ]
So, I ask you .. how different can they be?
Sure, there are differences. You could break-up the group like so:
- NYC boys (the Boroughs), which could be sub-divided again.
- Long Island boys.
- Northern Jersey boys.
[ I have LIVED WITH members of all three groups. ] But there are more similarities. And I find myself focusing on » the similarities.
What ARE these similarities, you ask? Good question. The most obvious similarity is the sense of street smarts that members of all three groups grow up with .. from their environment.
My parents tried to shelter me from the big, bad world. So, when I got away from home, I was not as street savvy as these New York City slicksters. But I learned from them, and they took care of me where I was not doing such a great job myself.
Anyway .. here is what I told my totally-impressive surgeon / doctor » "I know we can't stereotype .. but if we could .. and I had an important job to do .. that I needed to get done .. and they let me choose somebody to help .. from anywhere in the country .. I would choose a Long Island boy. They're smart. They're motivated. They're well-educated. And they're hard-working. They might not talk as pretty as you like .. but they know their shit and they know how to get the job done. And get it done right. At least, that has been my experience. From working all around the country. For a few decades."
He proceeded to tell me some interesting stories from his childhood, growing up there in Long Island, which resonated agreeably with my observation. But I will keep those private. ]
My Asian anesthesiologist .. you could tell that she was smart and knew her shit. You could see it in her eye and hear it in her voice.
She had an awareness that reminded you of a sixth sense, where it seemed like she would read your mind and state plainly exactly what you needed to hear.
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