Yesterday I saw the kidney man, and last night I posted the following entry on my LiveJournal: The Irishman and the Urologist [Apr. 4th, 2005|10:09 pm] "So he says he wants a spicimin. What's a spicimin, says I. Piss in a bottle says he and Shite in your drawers says I and that's how the fight started." Not quite, but it's a better story. He says he's got good news and bad news. First of all I have a tumor. I hoped that wasn't the good news. No, he says, the good news is that it's a small one, the size of a marble, growing on rather than inside the kidney. That's small? Yeah, he says, they come as big as grapefruits. Then they can lead to real trouble. Which might have happened in my case, if it weren't for them frickin' stones sounding the alarm like the geese on the Capitol. So the cutting will happen some Wednesday in May. Exactly when we will figure out tomorrow. [We didn't, for reasons which will be made clear below. Maybe in a couple of days.] He will do an old fashioned incision rather than a laparoscopy, not only because of my excess weight, but because with the laparoscopy there is greater risk of having to take the whole kidney rather than give it a little shave. But first I need to pass the stone that's on the way out now. Strictly speaking it passed when it reached the bladder, but that's not going far enough for my comfort. [Actually, it didn't get that far yet. I was confusing the ureter with the urethra again.] I will arrive the day of the surgery and stay on for a few more days, then rest up for some weeks. Like I do anything else -- computer work and even classroom teaching can be done in the recovery period. No heavy lifting. I didn't ask about... never mind. I set up a mailing list on the same service that hosts the Alexander Men list, the name of which I forget, so that the ladies could keep folks informed, but I may not be away from cyberspace for more than four or five days. What the hell, when I get back I can use the list for intelligent discussion by likeminded people of topics of common interest. At least I assume my friends are sufficiently intelligent and likeminded, and have some interests in common. I even set up a webpage where folks can subscribe and unsubscribe. The address of which I don't remember either. I will pass it on here in good time. (Two beers and a great deal of water were prescribed, and I find even a single Magic Hat Number Nine slows me down a bit and I will have more water, I mean even more water, before I tackle the second, if I even do. My medico seemed to think a beer to be significantly less than a pint, and a bottle of MH-9 is already a pint and a half. The point here is to attempt to flush out the little bastard before modern science reams out my manhood with a Roto-Rooter.) The waiting room was well supplied with brochures advertising Viagra and Cialis and so on. I told my better half I'd better get on something like that because it's for men with ED and I have an E Double D [as in Ed.D.]. ********************** All that fluid turned out to be a rather poor idea. By 1:30 or so I was in acute pain. Ibuprofen and Vicodin didn't work, so Maya and I headed for the ER at Roosevelt around three. I got my pain shot about 6:30. By that time, of course, I was feeling much better, but had it anyway because it helps the stone to move. It is just as well I did, because the sucker started to hurt again, and in fact I required a fairly stiff dose of morphine a couple of hours later. I was home by noon and slept the afternoon away. At this point I don't even know if I spelled morphine correctly or not, and even worse, I don't care. You are getting this because I put you on a list of people to get these things, or because someone forwarded it to you. To be added to or taken off the list, click here: //www.freelists.org/webpage/arisbe _______________________________________________ No banners. No pop-ups. No kidding. Make My Way your home on the Web - http://www.myway.com