This is one of those Gaulic editions of Wise Madness it is divided into three parts. The first and most important concerns my health. I had my post-colonoscopy follow-up appointment with my gastroenterologist and in the process set many other medical procedures in motion.
As soon as the colonoscopy was done the Dr. Kwah told me that I had 12 polyps. That’s a lot, even if it has been at least 12 years since I was scoped. Yesterday I got the pathologist’s verdict, not malignant. I won’t say benign as all polyps of the type I had, adenomas, are considered precancerous. Dr. Kwah did a good job of explaining things so I wouldn’t have any misperceptions. She took her time and never rushed. There was more good news, there was no sign of inflammation from any of the tests; my Crohn’s disease is quiescent. What of all the Crohn’s attacks I write about? This is terminology, she uses the term differently than my old doctors. She only calls it Crohn’s if it is from an active inflammation. When I’m in pain it’s from my intestines being obstructed by scar tissue from old inflammation and surgery. That is how I understood things, only the name has changed. I was surprised though that there were no signs of inflammation. She isn’t even putting me on medication. Thinking has changed since I last saw a GI. She wants to do one more test for inflammation, an MRI. I made an appointment for that.
She is disturbed by the number of polyps and gave me a referral to see a genetic specialist. She wants to see if I have Lynch’s syndrome, a specific genetic predisposition. Ashkenazi Jews are heavily inbred and are prone to a number of genetic disorders from founder effects. If I have it I can blame my parents and other ancestors for marrying each other.
Those of you who have met me might have noticed the lump on my abdomen. That’s a hernia from my surgeries. That’s always been on my list of things to check out when I got insurance. It can be surgically repaired. The adhesions that cause the obstructions can also be repaired. The hernias themselves can cause obstructions. Both surgeries can be done at once which greatly reduces the risk. She not only gave me a referral to the surgeon but made an appointment for the same day. I went to see him, Dr. Flavio Malchor. I’m giving his first name as the two names don’t go together linguistically. He had an accent I couldn’t identify. I feel the need to ask when that happens and he was glad to explain. Flavio is Italian, Malchor German, and his accent is Brazilian. Brazil, like the US, is something of a melting pot so you get mixtures like that. He thinks I should have surgery, as the hernias can lead to complications. It isn’t good that my intestines are slipping into them. I made a follow up appointment to schedule the surgery in a few months.
Why the wait? Because I also got a referral to see an ophthalmologist about my cataracts. That is a higher priority. I am tired of being blind. My anxiety makes it difficult to arrange these things. I’m not afraid of the surgery but making the appointments and filling out insurance forms. I know it’s weird but it’s how I’m built. I’m patting myself on the back for broaching the subject with Dr. Kwah. She did not say, “What the hell are you telling me about this? I’m a gastroenterologist;” as I feared. No point telling me that’s irrational, I am rational enough to be aware when I’m being irrational. If you could explain it to my amygdala that would help.
After seeing he surgeon I went for a blood test. I need that for the MRI. That never bothers me. They took only one vial, last time it was seven. This took very little time. The phlebotomist used a large bandage to cover the needle’s entry point. The worst part, it was heavily into my arm hair. That got me singing Uncle Bonsai. Who knows what song? Carey? Anybody else? I’m not even sure that Andrew will get it and he wrote the song. It is not about medical procedures but listen how it starts.
For the record, I do it quick; it hurts less. This time I had to think about it as I had trouble getting it started. The trouble was starting from the part that wasn’t hairy even though it was flush to the skin there.
So let’s see what I accomplished medically.
- Saw the GI
- Made an appointment for an MRI
- Made a follow-up appointment with the GI
- Got a referral for genetic testing
- Got a referral for an ophthalmologist
- Saw a surgeon
- Made a follow-up appointment with the surgeon
- Got a blood test to prepare for the MRI
This is the most I’ve done in one day for my medical needs than I have in ages. I’m getting back to this not becoming a mountain to climb. Now to build on this to inspire me to climb other anxiety mountains and then erode them down to mere hills.
Now on to part two, Adventures with the Postal Service. While at NERFA I was fitted for custom made ear plugs. On Friday, while I was at WFUV I got a slip in my mailbox that they couldn’t deliver a package. I hadn’t ordered anything of late and suspected it was the ear plugs. There were instructions on the slip how to schedule redelivery. I followed the link it gave and it asked for the redelivery code on the slip. The only code was a 12-digit number so I entered that. It was rejected, redelivery codes are at least 13 characters. There was a form to order redelivery if you don’t have a code so I filled that out. I requested Monday as I knew I could be home all day if need be. It didn’t come on Monday. I tried tracking it online. I tried the 12-digit code as a tracking number. It wasn’t. the post office is not really convenient for anything but I can pass it on the bus on the way too or from the doctor. I decided to stop by after my appointment. When I walked in I knew this was trouble. There was a long line and just one window open. They understaff my branch. White upper middle-class Oakland Gardens gets more resources than minority majority working class Bronx.
It took me over an hour to reach the window. When I got there they couldn’t find my package. Can you believe they don’t have things filed so you can immediately find them? When my friend lost his keys on Space Mountain at Disneyworld they found them in a minute and they didn’t have a name on them. It took them about 15 minutes to track it down.
Then on to Aldi, I needed to pick up a few things. For the first time ever I ran into someone I knew, Beruthiel, my roommate. I was on my way to check out when I saw her. She was still shopping. I checked out and took the elevator to the ground floor. It’s only one floor but I had to return my shopping cart to the parking lot so I could get my quarter deposit. The elevator door wouldn’t open. I was stuck in the elevator with one other person. We pressed the alarm, nothing. He pushed the emergency call number and we spoke to a woman who said she’d call the building. Nothing. We called her again and she said she’d call the building again and find out why nothing was done. Nothing. We heard someone calling from outside for Dave, the guy in the elevator with me. It was his fiancée. We were still stuck. Then for no reason the door opened. I returned my cart. When I got to the elevator the firemen arrived. I explained that I was the one that called and was stuck in the open elevator. The other door was stuck closed too. I hope there was nobody in there as it was not working when I arrived. I left the fireman as they tried to open it.
I was now running late, something I thought impossible when I started the day. Barnaby Bright was doing a house concert at 8 PM. I had left the house at 11 for my Noon doctor’s appointment. My worst-case scenario did not include me missing the concert. Then I added the surgeon visit, then the hour and twenty minutes at the post office then getting locked in the elevator. The upshot was that I missed the beginning of the show. Then my computer wouldn’t open, I had to reboot twice. I ended up missing the first 25 minutes of the show. I hope they did nothing but Dawes cover then. What I heard was wonderful, the stressful part of the day was over. The concert was the start of the pleasant evening. I made a delicious dinner then watched part 2 of Ken Burns’ Baseball; it is magical, baseball is magical. It is a sin that I haven’t seen it before. Mea Culpa.
The three parts of the day can be summarized as
- Medical productivity
- Frustration
- Harmonious resolution
Quite a nice narrative structure. All it needed was this epilogue.
Wise Madness 