Friday, November 03, 2006


You know it's hard out there for a limp

I want to take this opportunity to thank all the well-wishers. I have received phone calls, emails, and one very special Lulu-comment (those don't come often, you know) based on yesterday's post.

Many have asked me what has happened to my leg, so I will explain it despite it's gruesomeness. I'm reluctant to present my first posting not for the faint-of-heart or not for pregnant women but in this instance, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Trust me.

First, I want to thank my doctor for his patience and his great sense of humor (who knew that I would come up with my best material while a grown man had his finger inserted in my leg). Secondly, I want to look down disapprovingly at the medical profession for promoting barbarism. Aren't we advanced enough to do everything with lasers? What's with the scalpels and such?

Last week, I discovered something growing in my leg. My doctor-friend Sheemon suggested that it was an abscess, which is neither sexy nor a a green-colored liquor. Which is disappointing because I wouldn't have minded either in my leg. Sheemon suggested that I needed to wait until the pus (ewwww. "Pus" just may be the ugliest word ever) in my abscess liquefied and was ready to be drained. And so I did.

Incidentally, an abscess is "is a collection of pus that has accumulated in a cavity formed by the tissue on the basis of an infectious process (usually caused by bacteria or parasites) or other foreign materials (e.g. splinters or bullet wounds). It is a defensive reaction of the tissue to prevent the spread of infectious materials to other parts of the body." My doctor did not know the source of my abscess but I assure you that it was not from a bullet wound. At least, I think so.

This past Tuesday I went to a surgeon at Mt. Sinai and he generously inserted four needles into my leg to numb the surrounding area of my inner left thigh. The surgeon then took out a chunk of my leg skin because he could. Now, as horrible as this is to read, imagine, just imagine, that you are on the table and this is happening to you. Then consider being a vegetarian. After a very serious uncomfortable and numbing few minutes, Doctor Leghater shoves a bandage into my leg to prevent the skin from closing. After all, we need the virus to drain. I mean, why not? What's a little bandage in your leg between friends?

Doctor Leghater tells me I have to change the bandages twice a day. Doctor Leghater is insane. A day later, in the shower, I am pulling the bandage out of my leg and like a magician with his magic handkerchief, I kept pulling and pulling. And pulling. And pulling. The pain was intense. I sat down on the shower floor and waited for the pain to end. I rarely sit on my shower floor, by the way. And blood...? Do I really make this much blood? Correction: did I really make that much blood [sfx: blood flowing down the shower drain]

The bandages are my hell.

So hours later, I go back to the hospital because Sheemon tells me there's too much bleeding. Doctor Leghater tells me he needs to cut a bit more out because, well, he hates legs. I tell him, no more of this bandage shenannigans. So he uses a gauze pad instead. Moral of the story: gauze hurts like a bitch too.

Over the next couple of days, I have to replace the gauze bandages (see above) twice-a-day. And the hilarity of this all is that Leghater expected me to do the gauze-change myself. Oh sure, I'll stick a bandage into my own leg because this is something my brain is prepared to handle. Just to be clear: there are only a number of natural holes in my body and I am reluctant enough about sticking things into them, never mind the new holes.

So this is me sharing. I think it's time for you to do the caring.

Now as far as the SOAD: I used to really appreciate Catherine Wheel immensly. Their supreme record Adam & Eve is still one of my underrated favorites of all time. Their song "Heal" is like medication in song. If that's the case, I'm gonna listen to it all day long.

Catherine Wheel - "Heal"


Anonymous Anonymous said...

um- don't I get a shout out for all those bandage changes? Not every girlfriend would be so kind.

10:37 PM  

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