In preparation for Saint Patrick’s Day, I had surgery. Very minor stuff: a dermatologist removed a cyst from my shoulder, about a cm away from where he removed the same kind of cyst some years ago. Seems like my body is fertile turf for these kind of waxy lumps.
I arrive promptly at 8:30, and 5 minutes later I’m in with the physician’s assistant, a statuesque blonde armed with a variety of sharp objects. I start to drop trou.
“Wait,” she says. “The chart says the cyst is on your” she checks “left shoulder.”
“This isn’t the IRS,” she says crisply. “Keep your pants up, and remove your shirt.”
You’re not going to start off by aggravating me with a bunch of stupid questions, are you?
“The only question I ever ask is, ‘Does this hurt?’ and frankly, I don’t care what the answer is. Now sit down here and don’t give me any trouble or we’ll use the restraints.”
Wow. Where I usually go, that costs extra.
At this point the doctor arrives and we get started. He sticks about 6 needles in to numb the area, and then whips out a roto-rooter device and starts excavating. I feel blood dripping down my back. Or maybe he’s just drooling.
“Well,” he says a moment later, ”that came out pretty good!” He hands something to the PA who drops it with a chink into a plastic container. “Now I’m just gonna stitch this up and you’re on your way.”
That’s 2 in 5 years, Doc. Did you plant a third one?
“Nah, no need. I’ll be retired by then.” He says he removes about a dozen of these kind of growths every week, and regrets there’s no use for them when they’re out. When I suggest stuffing for bean bag furniture, the nurse almost pukes.
Less than an hour after we start, Guido and I have breakfast. I observe there’s no alcohol anywhere on the entire menu. Guido observes that it’s not even 10 0’clock, are you fucking crazy? I counter that I need something to steady my post-surgical nerves. She suggests sucking raw eggs.
I make up for her cruel prohibitive restrictions on St Patty’s Day. Women have no sense of how men suffer, especially when they’re the cause. Top o’ the Guinness to ya.