While it makes our paychecks a wee bit shorter, we subs have a healthy appreciation for spring break. At least THIS sub does, and what a spring break it has been. (This could be a long one, so bear with.)
A few weeks ago--well, I guess it was early March--I started feeling this mysterious soreness on my right side at my rib cage. It was under the skin, not sore like when I take a bath the soap and hot water would light me up. Just sore to the touch. I could feel a lump and a welt under there too. I lost my daddy to a smoking-related cancer back in '07 and I smoke, so I'm all like, "Ohhhhhh shit, CANCER!" You'd think I would have quit smoking long ago, but not yet. *side eyes self*. My Obama care has kicked in though, so I made my way to the doctor. He felt the lump and sent me to a surgeon who also felt the "THING" and thought outpatient exploratory surgery was in order. (Does Obama Care even cover that?????) I requested that the surgery be scheduled for spring break so I wouldn't miss any school. Between the doctor's appointments and x-rays, I'd already missed enough. I ain't a salaried employee yet, honey.
Well, guess what? Weeks of worry and an Easter Sunday visit to the church altar later, it was time for the surgery. I'm prepped and wheeled up to the operating area (?). I don't know the technical term for it. My iv juice was making me feel all nice and relaxed when the doc strolls in and asks me about my spot. I couldn't find it. HE couldn't find it. It was gone, so Doc said there was no need for the procedure because he'd just be "digging around" and my name was stricken from his dance card for that day. You'll not tell me that my God ain't in the blessing business.
I will say I was slightly embarrassed because I hate to feel like I'm wasting anyone's time. Maybe I should have been checking on it all along, but in my mind I was already dead and buried. I apologized--a cornball move in retrospect--and the doc asked me why I was apologizing, that I should be glad I didn't have to have surgery but before he left me laid out there he apologized too. He also left me with a little nugget of information regarding my health: When they did the CT scan of my problem area, they found a spot on my liver. My LIVER. You know that organ that you CANNOT live without, unlike at least one kidney or lung, the tonsils, gall bladder, or appendix...MY LIVER. After he left, I just laid on the bed being pumped full of feel-good juice with my eyes misting. I had spent the days and weeks leading up to the "surgery that wasn't" imagining my funeral, playing George Michael's "Praying For Time" repeatedly, imagining how sad my mama would be without me, imagining the wedding, guilt-free intramarital sex, and pretty babies I would never have, imagining seeing my beautiful grandma again--if I got into Heaven...I had also stocked up on post-surgical cuisine--soup and jello. I guess it's just sitting in the cupboard waiting for me to actually have surgery...or the flu.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what went wrong with my liver. I drink 3 times a year: Christmas, New Years, my birthday, and those occasions all depend on whether or not my bestie is in town. There are no drinkers in my immediate fam and I don't drink alone. Where am I going to get a liver if my current model has become a dud? Those things are hard to come by, you know, and don't people with liver problems swell up? Call me shallow, but I don't want to swell up. I don't want to be on the liver donation wait list, basically waiting for someone else to die. I don't want to be sick period. My menstrual cramps, migraines, and allergies are enough to make me take to my bed. What will I do? Now that I mention migraines, my drug of choice when I don't have a maxalt prescription is Excedrin Migraine which contain acetaminophen. Which is bad for the liver. LORD, have mercy. So school starts next week, and I'm already down one day for a CT scan of my liver.
A few weeks ago--well, I guess it was early March--I started feeling this mysterious soreness on my right side at my rib cage. It was under the skin, not sore like when I take a bath the soap and hot water would light me up. Just sore to the touch. I could feel a lump and a welt under there too. I lost my daddy to a smoking-related cancer back in '07 and I smoke, so I'm all like, "Ohhhhhh shit, CANCER!" You'd think I would have quit smoking long ago, but not yet. *side eyes self*. My Obama care has kicked in though, so I made my way to the doctor. He felt the lump and sent me to a surgeon who also felt the "THING" and thought outpatient exploratory surgery was in order. (Does Obama Care even cover that?????) I requested that the surgery be scheduled for spring break so I wouldn't miss any school. Between the doctor's appointments and x-rays, I'd already missed enough. I ain't a salaried employee yet, honey.
Well, guess what? Weeks of worry and an Easter Sunday visit to the church altar later, it was time for the surgery. I'm prepped and wheeled up to the operating area (?). I don't know the technical term for it. My iv juice was making me feel all nice and relaxed when the doc strolls in and asks me about my spot. I couldn't find it. HE couldn't find it. It was gone, so Doc said there was no need for the procedure because he'd just be "digging around" and my name was stricken from his dance card for that day. You'll not tell me that my God ain't in the blessing business.
I will say I was slightly embarrassed because I hate to feel like I'm wasting anyone's time. Maybe I should have been checking on it all along, but in my mind I was already dead and buried. I apologized--a cornball move in retrospect--and the doc asked me why I was apologizing, that I should be glad I didn't have to have surgery but before he left me laid out there he apologized too. He also left me with a little nugget of information regarding my health: When they did the CT scan of my problem area, they found a spot on my liver. My LIVER. You know that organ that you CANNOT live without, unlike at least one kidney or lung, the tonsils, gall bladder, or appendix...MY LIVER. After he left, I just laid on the bed being pumped full of feel-good juice with my eyes misting. I had spent the days and weeks leading up to the "surgery that wasn't" imagining my funeral, playing George Michael's "Praying For Time" repeatedly, imagining how sad my mama would be without me, imagining the wedding, guilt-free intramarital sex, and pretty babies I would never have, imagining seeing my beautiful grandma again--if I got into Heaven...I had also stocked up on post-surgical cuisine--soup and jello. I guess it's just sitting in the cupboard waiting for me to actually have surgery...or the flu.
 |
| I hate canned soup, so I eat ramens. |
Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out what went wrong with my liver. I drink 3 times a year: Christmas, New Years, my birthday, and those occasions all depend on whether or not my bestie is in town. There are no drinkers in my immediate fam and I don't drink alone. Where am I going to get a liver if my current model has become a dud? Those things are hard to come by, you know, and don't people with liver problems swell up? Call me shallow, but I don't want to swell up. I don't want to be on the liver donation wait list, basically waiting for someone else to die. I don't want to be sick period. My menstrual cramps, migraines, and allergies are enough to make me take to my bed. What will I do? Now that I mention migraines, my drug of choice when I don't have a maxalt prescription is Excedrin Migraine which contain acetaminophen. Which is bad for the liver. LORD, have mercy. So school starts next week, and I'm already down one day for a CT scan of my liver.
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