Monday, March 21, 2011

I am LIKE a diseased whore

Note: This is a draft post from 2007. I just completed it and posting it now.

You know you are getting old when your butt starts getting fractured and lumps start appearing around your body. Yes, to affirm that my recent butt issues were no fluke, a huge pimple like structure had appeared on my left cheek. At first I ignored it, hoping that it would go away, but it just got bigger and bigger. In fact, it had gotten so big that I wanted to give it a name. Finally, I decided to do something about it so I went to get it checked out, which meant another visit to the polyclinic.

I got referred to the dermatologist who diagnosed it as a wart. Ugh saying it makes me queasy, isn't that supposed to only happen to old people, you know the kind with the really wrinkly skin who frankly look quite disgusting? Anyway she made an appointment for me to come back to get it removed the following week, which I did.

So there I was the following week at the clinic in the morning, and after a 5 minute wait I was lead into this room by a nurse, where I was told to lie down on this long operating table. A rather young doctor then came in and introduced herself and explained that she will be burning off the ward with one of their instruments that looked like a hot iron. It would be quick and painless, and I should be out of there in 30 minutes. She was kinda cute, I should ask her out after this was over, I thought to myself. Oh wait , she's removing a freaking wart from my face.

As I was prepping myself for the ordeal I realized the doctor had one of her blouse buttons loose. I was lying down at an angle where I had a pretty nice view of her assets constrained by a bra that looked way too small. Of course I immediately looked away , being the gentleman I am , but before I could, she caught me. Her face twisted in disgust , but being a true professional that she was she didn't say anything , nor let me explain that she caught me in that microsecond before I looked away.

She readied her little needle pumped with local anesthesia and without warning jammed it into the soft tissue that was my left cheek. (Face not butt). The pain was almost unbearable but was gone in an instant. But there was something in her eye that told me that was not the only pain I was going to feel that day.

She spun away from me , and after a few minutes she turned back with a heating rod. She asked me if I was ready, and before I could nod my head she placed it on my wart. I immediately smelt burning flesh, and eventhough it was mine, it wasn't that bad a smell, a bit like barbequed pork.

So there I was , smelling my own burning flesh and feeling hungry since I didn't have lunch, they told me not to. It went on for around 15 minutes, but suddenly I started feeling this intense pain and I flinched. Her response was "oops, I guess I didn't put enough anesthetic". Yep she was getting back at me for my little peeping tom act, I was sure of it. I made a mental note never to peep at a doctor with equipment that could possibly hurt you. She signaled to the nurse who provided her with another needle, she jabbed it again into my cheek like as if she was testing the tenderness of a steak, and she was resumed her burning.

Another 5 minutes passed, and then it got weirder. She went "hmmmmmmm..." . I don't know about you but hmm is not something you wanna hear from a doctor who is operating on you. Weird ideas started popping into my head and I started imagining what she might say, maybe something like:

"Hmm ..Gilbert, guess what! You have a twin brother whom you absorbed into your body while you were a fetus. That was what I was trying to burn this last 15 minutes"

She stopped what she was doing and whispered something to the nurse who then left the room. I asked her what was going on, but she told me to be calm, and that the senior doctor would be in shortly, apparently what I had was NOT a wart.

So there I was freaking out, wondering what the hell the thing on my face was. Thankfully my wait was short, this old dude (aka the senior doctor) came in 3 minutes later. He looked at my cheek, and then they started having this medical discussion. I hate it when doctors have THAT discussion, the one where they use all this bombastic latin words that normal people don't understand. It went something like "Apropos, it seems like a mea culpic distension , le sa vie?" Incredibly annoying.

Finally they turned to me and explained. It was a cyst not a wart. They had to do a different procedure, basically have to operate and dig it out, and they needed my consent to do so since it was different from the original procedure. They handed me a piece of paper which i assumed was a consent form and asked me to sign it. Bear in mind this is all happening while I was on lying on the floor with half my cheek burned off. I scribbled something resembling my signature and begged them to finish it.

An hour later it was over. Now the only thing that remains of that day is that scar on my cheek. Of course I tell chicks it's from a knife fight when I was trying to protect a woman from a robber.

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