Updates from the health desk

I’m sure you’re eager to hear what happened yesterday. I’m eager to tell you, but first let’s get some housekeeping out of the way. Today’s Truck Scale of Holistic Well-Being: Jeep sideswiped me this morning, but larger truck may run me over later today. Meanwhile, my spleen may be shrinking while my belly is not, leading some to question: Have I been misattributing my pregnancy to my ginormous spleen all these years? Don’t answer that.

Yesterday’s procedure rendered mostly good news. Let’s start with the good, and you’ll barely notice the little hiccup at the end. By now it is expected that any test I undergo will yield abnormal results of some kind.

I was prepped on time for Dr. Liver’s internal inspection. [Sidebar: Let’s rename the new Dr. Liver “Dr. Foie Gras” because he strikes me, from his attire, as one who enjoys the finer things in life. That’s better.] First, my day nurse joked me through a painful IV insertion. A second nice nurse wheeled me flawlessly through the “Hall of Shame”–the “Shame” referring to my scanty hospital-gown coverage–where anxious people awaiting their look-see watch anxiouser patients ahead of them being wheeled in.

One woman looked terrified and was crying, which saddened me, since I know how scary this procedure can be. Had I not had my own fears to manage, I’d have offered unsolicited clinical support.

Before I was sedated, Dr. F.G. chatted with me about the medication that was affecting my balance and had likely contributed to my recent Summer of Falls. Upon checking my heart rate, Dr. F.G. informed me that I was at the perfect (lower) dose, and that I would not die sooner if I maintained this dose. Whew, what a relief!

The nice nurse then sent me off to La-La Land. (I knew that IV pain would be worth it.) From what I’m told, the doctor then peeked around inside, leaving nary a rubber band behind. Then I was wheeled back through the same hallway. I remember nothing, of course, since I was sedated, but I’m hoping my undies weren’t showing when I was transported back.

Later I learned that the results were so good that Dr. Foie Gras does not need me to repeat this procedure for a year. Wow! Sadly, this means that I have no more sedation days in my immediate future, and you know how I love sedation.

The doctor did, however, spot one picturesque hiatal hernia. Hernia shmernia, I say. You may have one too for all you know but you, like me, are asymptomatic. Hernias don’t reverse themselves, some are problematic and must be surgically repaired, but mine is of no concern to the doctor at this time. Heck, this is my third hernia so I’m an old pro. Just like an old car, I can keep running despite a few broken parts.

But this is how I really knew the news was good: when we got home, J. tried to book us a vacation. You don’t have to convince me, honey. Insurance inshmurance, I say.

Hey guys, is there room in here for me?