Extra Steel In my Chest, Donkey Tranquilizer & Russian Satellites

The Thoracic Surgeon, Dr Evans – He’s a little gnome-like man, cheerful & smiley… …always a kind word for me, very encouraging and supportive – he inspires confidence, which is huge in someone about to wear your ribcage as a hat….

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Now look, far be it from me to start any unfounded rumours, but after some careful consideration – I’ve come to a conclusion, that – maybe, just maybe he was showboating, for me. For all I know he could be completely different to all his other patients – showing up drunk before surgery, high on speed or quaaludes… who knows  – it’s a well-known fact that Doctors and inner city kids from Mexico City, are amongst the heaviest prescription drug abusers users in the world. Please note – this sample does not include veterinarian prescriptions… including all forms of ketamine, a powerful horse tranquilizer…(super awesome when you’re out clubbing the night away) – but it does include the powerful Donkey Tranquilizer known as Tequila.

Let me tell you where I’m going with this, well – to be blunt – it’s pretty obvious he’s developed a crush on me… cool your jets, friend… I can hear your accusatory gasp “what evidence do you have”, Here’s my evidence, bub – the facts – other than the obviously coy way he averts his eyes when I try and make eye contact, that nervous little laugh he punctuates all my comments with and one big reason we’ll discuss later…. I also submit for your approval – I’m alive – OK right there pretty big one, freaking huge – look, he’s not God, I’m sure he’s lost way more patients than he cares to admit, hundreds and hundreds most likely, maybe thousands who keeps track – but me, all good – so right there… obviously he’s taken a shine to me. Secondly I was under general anesthetic for almost 6 hours, now when I went in to the OR, I know my shirt was buttoned just so, BUT when I came out my shirt had been re-buttoned and one of the button-holes had been skipped, as if I had been redressed in a hurry – Obviously I had been undressed while unconscious, explain that!

I wouldn’t be surprised if at some later date when I finally become President of the World, these pictures surface on some futuristic TMZ or whatever mental pablum the masses mindlessly lap up in the future…. Lastly, he asked me to run away with him – well, OK not really with words so much as with his manner, his demeanor screamed out for us to charter a houseboat and travel the world’s freshwater lakes, laughing and skinny-dipping in the moonlight. I know – weird right?

Oh hey, while I’m talking about my surgeon why don’t I go ahead and tell you what he said during my Exam, about the healing and all – and give you the final reason I’m convinced he has contracted a bad bad case of Chris-Fever…. I sit demurely in the waiting room, he walks out and gives me a big two-handed handshake, more of an old friend greeting than a Doctor – Patient, but I overlook this. Now listen here, right now I am WEAK – if any of you have reason to kick my ass, now is the time, I can’t imagine ever being weaker than I am now. But when I shook his hand, he goes on for like 5 minutes about how strong I am and he’s a surgeon and he can’t have people squeezing his hands that hard – for this I have my mother as a living witness. He then walked me back to his grotto – I mean office and tells me to lose the shirt, while he makes some Daiquiris… again, weird right?

I do as I’m told and lose the shirt, letting my impressive one-pack speak for itself… He comes back in and starts putting pressure on my chest, now I understand he has years of medical training and has probably seen hundreds of post-op patients BUT he hasn’t seen me before and I am sore, tender and pressure on chest = pain. Peter Piper on a stack of corn, it hurt like a Ginger kid finding out they will always look the way they do now…. He gets me to do some equally painful range of motion exercises, arms akimbo, reaching, stretching, etc etc…. “Hey Doctor, I can get my Mom & some of the other people in the waiting room to bring in some pencils if you also wanted to stab me in the eyes while I’m doing this…. just say the word…

Now, I am sitting on a low exam table and he is standing… I am big and he is small – he is probably half my total volume. NOW we’re about to get real up in here – put the kids to bed, here comes some graphic content and the final reason I know he thinks only of me while he’s in the shower….  to recap — Me, sitting, him, standing – that makes our faces about equal height, (I told you he’s tiny, he probably became a Doctor because he couldn’t get work at Coney Island)….

– he moves in close, real close, so close I can smell the soap he uses… he’s in my space, well within my cone of safety and it’s uncomfortable – my brain screams, Stranger Danger. When IT happened… he moved in even closer and while putting one hand on my chest and the other hand around my back, HE GETS ON MY LEG AND RESTS HIS JUNK ON MY THIGH…. now the room started spinning and I can’t be sure if he yelled Yee-Haw or not as he continued to ride my leg like a desperate cowboy trying to break a wild Palomino. That notwithstanding his junk was on my leg and I was wearing SHORTS.. Oh FYI, he’s circumcised, there, that’s how close he was….  So while he has his hands around me and continuing to violate me, he asks me to cough while he checks the integrity of my ribs and sternum… afterwards he climbs down and stops treating me like his own personal sex toy… and like that – it, the whole waking nightmare had ended.

…That’s it, I can’t talk about it anymore…… He was very happy (yea I’ll bet) with my progress… He said I should expect only minimal clicking over the next few weeks. He gave me some new exercises to do or there would be a danger of the chest muscles fusing forward, pulling the sternum down and thus I would forevermore stoop forward, and baby we don’t want that. He was happy that the lungs were clear and had fully re-inflated. He explained about all the information on the Pathology report, and it looked good.. the Thymus showed severe atrophy – completely normal in adults, the Thymus sets up your immune system when you are growing up, but it serves no purpose as an adult – completely shuts down, it’s like an appendics, can be removed with no problems. BUT mine showed signs of Follicular Hyperplasia, which means that it had become active again. Very common in Mysathenia, so that is positive because it seems to be a direct cause – effect relationship, Thymus should be dead it wasn’t hence I get Mysathenia – But now it’s gone so… not to count my chickens but theoretically, I should start getting better.

I asked him about how careful I had to be, he said I was a big guy with a large muscular chest (Hell Yea) and so they ended up putting lots more stainless steel wire than average to hold me together. He said no driving for a while, he asked that I wait a bit longer before sleeping on my side… damn, that means back to the chair for a little while longer. He wants me walking, and doing the stretches and exercises to strengthen everything. I asked him about when I’m healed would it be good as new, He said sadly no – it will never be as strong as before it was split BUT it will be very strong and I can live completely normally. I asked about vigorous exercise, golf, throwing a baseball or football, volleyball arm swings etc, he said no, not until Spring…. SPRING!, wait 6 months then as long as there was no clicking go ahead. So the bones will knit meaning create guide fibres in 8 – 12 weeks but then they need to strengthen and really grow together. Then before he gives me the OK to put my shirt back on, he cups his hand under my incision and pulls off all the big scabs, just tears them right off, not the little ones.. the big ones. Somewhere a Russian Spy Satellite is broken because of the Ultra High Frequency scream I sent out into the Cosmos… Turkey in Tabasco Doc, how about giving a guy a warning.

So that’s pretty much it, he said there was no need for a follow-up appointment, unless something went wrong, or I felt odd then go ahead and call him. Well DUH, of course I felt odd you had your “unit” all up and down my innocence…

Geez… so that’s it for Dr Evans in  my life…. Thanks Doctor for taking care of me and making everything all right. I forgive you….

Have a Great Day

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