It Might Get Messy

It is not easy to go one-up on the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition, 1992. But I have done so. The word is “bung”. According to the AHDEL 3rd, “bung” means a barrel-stopper or the hole it fits into, or tossing, flinging, injuring, or damaging. The AHDEL 3rd does NOT list “caecum or blind gut of cattle”. But THAT is the use I intend here. For your interest, I have the term “beef bung” in my vocabulary because of extensive, if casual, reading of cookbooks and food preparation manuals. Beef bung is a high-quality, and highly desirable, sausage casing. Some (real) bolognas and mortadellas are made in beef bung casing.


For this recurring blog post series, I wanted to use “Bowels of the Beast”, as a play on “Belly of the Beast”, paperback bestseller by Jack Henry Abbott whose release from prison was championed by Norman Mailer. Who later disavowed any knowledge or action when Abbott stabbed a guy to death a few months after he got out. But Scandinavian grunge-punk kids (and my favorites) The Raveonettes already used that. 


Then I decided I liked the bung-as-blind-gut nuance, and that’s where I was gonna take you.


So to speak. I finally decided that either would have been too pedantic. My primary chain of thought the past couple of days has been “ooh, this could get really messy”. 


So here we are.


I seldom have contact with what we laughingly think of as a health care “system” here in the U.S. You might recall some fun postings from my gall bladder excision a few years ago. Other than that, I’m usually involved for routine shit—blood pressure, blood sugar, prostate check. Today I got my first taste of “real” health care. The day ended +1 in favor of the Health Care System, but it started out several down. Here’s the deal… .


Got swollen glands. Now having trouble swallowing. Make a same-day with my GP, a sharp and rational gentleman who I trust. He palpates the glands, says “whoa, hang on a sec” and runs—I swear—upstairs to the nearest Eye, Nose & Throat specialty shop. The ENT says he can take me in a week and can recommend somebody else. My GP rattles him enough to commit to seeing me after the ENT finishes his day.


I go up to do paperwork. When I fill it out, the admin ladies tell me the doc’s day is booked and I’ll have to come back Friday. I miss the easy disconnect, thank them rather icily, and head down to find some wi fi to locate another ENT. Turns out, though (and this will be a consistent theme), the doctors made full professional and personal commitments to each other (basically my guy called in a big favor on my behalf) but didn’t tell their staff (remind me to tell you about a CEO I worked for once who regularly promised a cyclically unhappy client that we would damned well transform ourselves into the “best damned consultancy he [the client] ever had”. Then, when said CEO would return to his desk via the next day’s flight, he wouldn’t tell anybody what he’d promised or what was needed to do the job. I only found out about it because I took him to lunch once to get a read. Same syndrome here). 


So I go back that evening. The guy pokes around my mouth, throat and ears, does some endoscopy (not easy given my seriously and repeatedly deviated nasal septa). Excuses himself. Runs—I swear—to his office to phone Johns Hopkins to get me into their ENT system that night. No response. Eventually, he faxes a scrip to the doctors who are his best buddies there (I have a copy, it reads “Please diagnose and treat throat mass”), leaves vmail messages telling them to see me the next day, and sends me on my way.


Next day I call Hopkins. The administrators tell me they have the scrip, but nothing saying I have to be seen that day and that none of the doctors are working that day anyway so I can’t be seen. I tell the admin ladies that my doctor told their doctors I had to be seen today. They check. Sure enough, again, the docs had connected but completely bypassed their fortress walls.


Now I am impressed. An outstanding Internist sees me for a good 45 minutes, finding out some things I wasn’t aware of. Followed by the senior doc, a young guy with joint appointments on faculty and at the hospital.


They palpate my mouth, ears, and throat. Do some endoscopy. While they’ve got my internal workings up on the screen, I ask them if they can take a couple of still shots for me. The doc says “no, software can’t do that. But wait. Do you have a flash drive?” Of course, I have a couple of 8 gig drives in my bag. He gives me the entire video!


On which, and here’s the punchline for this entry, he has pointed out 3 masses. One looks compelling and frighteningly like your stock photo idea of a malignancy. The others are less obvious. The doc takes a needle biopsy of the one mass he can reach. But he clearly believes that all 3 are malignant.


And I thought I had a strep throat and swollen glands… . 


PS. If you have a little time available, please surf on over to the other components of this weblog empire:


http://docviper.livejournal.com/


http://theresaturtleinmysoup.blogspot.com/


http://sustainablebiospheredotnet.blogspot.com/


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