Monday, April 9, 2012

if it weren't for the peritoneal tissue in the way

     The night following surgery, the doctor-in-training is checking out my incisions. She points out the glue that covers each one; a clear, shiny layer that does the trick stitches used to do. Yes, I say, I recognize that glue. I've gotten it on my fingers doing little repair projects around the house. I'm not trying to be funny, really. Superglue does sometimes find its way onto one's fingertips, and the little layer remains for days. But I am curious as to whether this person will engage with me, or if she is following a script. Well, she says. This glue we applied on purpose, to close your incisions. 
     Oh oh. She thinks I don't get that.
     Do you have any questions? she asks. It's generally risky to ask me if I have any questions, particularly when there is nothing else occupying my attention. Particularly if I am trying to see if you will engage with me. I can always come up with questions. Just ask me.
     Will my bladder retain its integrity? That's the foremost question, and a serious one. I count on my bladder, and want to trust its integrity. I worry that now that its roommates have moved out, it will think it owns the place. No one wants a bladder that cranks the music, leaves trash around, lives like a slob.
     Yes, she says. The surgery should not affect the integrity of the bladder.
     That's good news.
     Any chance the operation might have affected my personal integrity?
     No, she answers, oblivious to or uninterested in the woozy twinkle in my eye. The operation has not been shown to affect one's integrity one way or the other.
     Pity. On a couple of levels, pity.
     I try one more time. Is it theoretically possible now for me to reach in and get at a tickle in my throat from the inside?
     I'm afraid not, she says. There is a band of peritoneal tissue blocking your way.
     THAT'S the problem with reaching in to get at a tickle in my throat from underneath? She has trumped and stumped me. I flop back on the bed. For once I am fresh out of questions.




3 comments:

  1. Oh my God, p!!!!!!!!!! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. So needed this. Still laughing.....who knew how much your surgery would save me, too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Paula,
    My guess is that your earnest doctor-in-training (who, by the way, isn't encouraged/allowed to have a sense of humor at that stage of her development) probably thought that the drugs had made you temporarily daffy.

    Honestly, not knowing you, that's probably what I would have thought. "The oophorectomy in Room 4B is talking morphine". Sorry.

    It's very generous of you to try to lighten up the situation for everyone. Hope you're healing well.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Touche (accent aigu), my dear.

    ReplyDelete