December 17, 2008

It's been a while since I have been here. I do have a perfectly good excuse as to why I have let my blog grow dormant.I will tell you my excellent excuse.

I have been on an adventure since the last time I posted a blog. OK I know you are wondering what kind of adventure is so all important that I would leave my blog unattended. Yes, yes I know I am not the type of blogger to ignore the important task as the upkeep for a seldom read blog. In my defense it could not be helped. An adventure so compelling, so breathtaking, I could not resist.

My adventure began in the most unlikely location, but looking back now I suppose a lot of adventures begin exactly where mine began. My adventure began at my doctor's office. Yup you read me right.

I am not the type that choose a doctor's office to hang out in. If by chance I am found at any doctor's office, including my own doctor, you can rest assured I am there under duress. In this case I was fulfilling a request from Mrs. Raballard. She has a thing about me taking care of myself. Being the loving dutiful husband I try to humor her. I was there for my annual check-up. You know the one, the one that every male over the age of fifty needs every year. My doctor, which I secretly think is in league with her to keep me healthy began my adventure with a very simple statement, "We need to check your PSA." I was unaware at the time my journey had begun, but it had.


What could I do? They ganged up on me, Conspiracy complete, my PSA was checked. Don't expect results right away, nope it takes about five business days for the results to come back. I suppose that is because they send it off to some underground lab, where it will be dissected, bisected, or what ever sected is left. They did comfort me they would let you know either way. My fate was sealed. I left, actually sprinted from the office. The whoosh heard down the halls of the medical center was me. OK I didn't whoosh, I paid my co-pay, picked up my nifty sticker, and left.

Five business days came and went without as much as a "how do you do?" from my doctor. Obviously doctors don't have the concept of time to an OCD guy like myself, five days is five days. They also have no idea how impatient I can be. I have no idea my cable provider is included in the doctor/patient confidentiality, apparently they are. The phone call did not come. I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to know, so I called my doctor to see if my results had been returned. "No, the doctor will call when the results come in" (sounded like a rehearsed answer if you ask me). Two more days went by without an a phone call. I was a nervous wreck by this time. As opposed to my usual just plain wreck. On the 8th day I got a call from my doctor's receptionist requesting that I make an appointment for a biopsy. It seems as if my PSA is slightly elevated, something like three times normal. I was at the point of no return, my adventure had taken a slight detour. My adventure was now a train wreck in the making.

If any of you have never had a biopsy done in your nether regions, you are in for a treat. All I can say it is kind of like placing your "keester" in a bear trap, four to six times. Fun was had by all. After my biopsy I was informed that it usually took five business days for the results to come in. I know kind of deja-vu all over again, huh.

True to form the results had not been returned by the five days. I am sure my biopsy was under close scrutiny by the NSA, how else could the delay have been explained? Finally on Thursday, four days after the five business days I got the dreaded phone call from my doctor's receptionist "The test results are in, however the doctor doesn't work on Thursdays. He will be in Friday afternoon to read the results. He will call you after he has read them. (Aren't adventures such fun?)

On Friday afternoon my doctor called with my results. "We found cancer in the biopsy, it is just a small amount, but cancer never the less." He then waited for my reaction, tears welling up. "I will turn you over to my receptionist so you can make an appointment. We need to go over your options."

"Options? what options are there? I want it removed," was my immediate response.

"Make an appointment. We can discuss it at that time."

Remember this is Friday afternoon. I told the receptionist I would like an appointment first thing Monday morning. I mean, I had to face the weekend with the knowledge I had cancer, and I didn't want to prolong the agony one second later than I had to.

"He doesn't work on Mondays, and he will be out of town on Tuesday, the earliest I can fit you in would be ten o'clock on Wednesday."

Great! An extra three days of living in fear. At least it didn't have to wait five business days. I don't think I could take that.

I will finish the tale of my adventure on my next blog. I will be back in five business days.