Hi – haven’t been my best lately! Over a week ago I ended up with a ruptured appendix. Hospital #1 and Doctor #1 took x-rays, hooked me up to saline, asked about how I felt (you know…the ole’ on a scale of 1 to 10…10 being the highest rate of pain you feel where you would like to kill a small town of innocent rabbits if you could . . . or 2 – you’re ready for an evening of dancing). I was a “fast boot” – over and out, otherwise known as Pump and Dump…sending you back to the bacterial-ridden streets that you and I came from.
A few days later, in extreme agony – another medical facility, 90 miles from home. The doctor (Doctor #2) inquired if I would please prepare for surgery (after he took a look at the CAT scan results and was literate enough to read the blood and urine results….don’t mind me – I have a gallows sense of humor). He warned me that I needed surgery. I figured a day later or something, but – no – how about 20 minutes later. Richard gave blood for a transfusion and hung by my side hysterically for 5 – 6 days.
I’m home. Hurray #2 – and glad of it.
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The “exploding appendix” may yield some important information regarding our uranium and tungsten poisoning. While in the middle of scooping up my messy gut, the doctor found some very unusual string of cysts and managed to get his hands on a bunch of them for samples and medical evaluation and pathological. tests. While checking in, I had to explain to the doctors about the 35 or so pills I take a day and particularily about the tincture of opium that I take. He was interested and curious – – you never know. Curious doctors are a rare breed and needed when you don’t have just a “run of the mill” illness.
So, Doctor #2 may be of more help than he planned. And Perhaps it’s a good thing that Doctor #1 didn’t touch me.