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I got there about 15 minutes early as they requested, spent
5 minutes filling out the new patient forms and 15 mintues waiting.
Finally my name was called and she weighed me (114 lbs), took
my temp (98.3), heartrate (100), and bloodpressure (92/60, a
bit low). I got up and went to the window, and watched traffic
come and go from the emergency room and from the apt. complex
across the street. And that's how the doctor found me, leaning
against the window sill.
He's a big man, 6'6" at least and weight proportainate.
Pretty much all grey hair, warm soft hands and good looking which
made his hands seem all the warmer and softer. (damn, I need
to get laid)
Any way after a series of coordination and flexibilty tests
with my fingers and wrists he took a look at the sore wrist.
He asked questions, took notes with neat readable handwriting
in blue ink in my chart.
Diagnosis: Right dorsel wrist ganglion.
Well, I already knew that, but I nodded knowingly and asked
"what's next?"
I have 3 options. Leave it alone. Stick a needle in it and
aspriate it. Surgery.
Since I've had this for 10 yrs the aspiration, he figures,
would have a 30% success rate. I could do that and if it comes
back, no harm, no foul, and on to surgery.
Surgery is 90% successful. I told him I wasn't that keen on
having a general and he understood and offered a local or block
with a mild seditive.
He schedualed a followup for 4 weeks, but if I decided to
have the surgery feel free to call and they would schedual it
for me.
I've decided to have the surgery.
~*~
After the doctor's visit (who's signature is wonderfuly legiable
I might add) I went to the Firestone to have yet another leak
investigated.
Firestone James was there and chuckled when I said "hi,
I'm back."
He asked what car I had and I could see him stalling trying
to remember my name. He was close and of course I had to tease
him about that. Came back for it later and he told me it was
oil coming from up in the engine and I would need the transmission
dropped to get to the engine to fix it, not they can't do it
there. The desire to grab him by the collar and say 'duct tape
it then.' vanished when those exotic blue eyes looked at me as
he told me to take it to a transmission place.
I'm thinking, 'hell no'. I'll just feed it oil until I buy
a new car. Which might be sooner than I anticipated. We talked
a bit about cars and I asked him a few questions when it dawned
on me: He hadn't given me my key back, or gave me a total on
what I owed. He was just standing there in all his Firestone
Jamesness being a little more talkative than he usually is and
smiling a lot more. Finally I asked if he could write down the
repairs I needed. "Oh, yes." he said like he had forgotten
that I was there to pick up my car and not chat him up. I didn't
owe anything and was a breath away from asking him out if it
wasn't for the other mechanics walking in and out and a customer
watching tv 10 feet away.
last time ~ next time
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