It is more important to know where you are going, than how long it takes to get there.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

The Lottery...

The change of winning the lottery is slim. If you don't play the lottery, like me, the chances are even slimmer. I probably should stop prefacing my grand statements, "When I win the lottery..."

Today I finally removed the bandage from having my port a cath removed 13 days ago. When I had it inserted in July and then removed earlier this month, I went to Beverly Hospital and was assigned whatever doctor was working that day to perform the day surgery. With 20/20 hindsight, I feel like I was playing the lottery with the doctors. How was I to know that I would get a highly skilled doctor, or a doctor that might not be on the top of his game? Why did I not research this better and request a certain doctor to do the procedures? I don't play the lottery with my finances, why did I play the lottery with my health?

A few unnerving instances happened during the removal that makes me believe this doctor was not necessarily the top in his field. I mentioned the nick on the artery in a previous post. One reason why I had so much time to look around the operating room prior to the procedure is that the doctor forgot to put on his glasses before he robed up for the procedure, so he had to re-robe. (Why do the doctors get to wear a robe and the patients wear a "johnny?") I can understand forgetting your cell phone or pager, but forgetting your glasses to do intricate work is a problem. The other strange situation was that the doctor did not have an assistant with him during the procedure. It was just he and me in the room. I kept thinking, what if something goes wrong and he needs help? When he needed an electric cauterizer, he yelled into the other room for some assistance. After the nurse brought the cauterizer, he left again. I have had countless procedures, and there were always at least two people in the room when anything was puncturing through the skin. The last odd circumstance was when he put on the bandage over the stitches and incision. He told me to cover it with cellophane wrap when I shower because it was not waterproof. What? Every other doctor, and there were plenty of them, used waterproof bandages. Were they out? Did he not know about them? Now I have gauze stuck to the site.

The scar from the removal looks a little big. I can't completely see it through the gauze that is clinging to the incision site. So far, my scar count from last year is 9. I would have more but a couple of them were cut off and discarded. I know, gross.

Whacky thought for the day...
Fresh snow is the most beautiful and serene sight, but the same snow, a day later, next to the side of the road, is the complete antithesis.


  1. Oh, Keval. The fun never ends, eh? Was this at MGH or Bev? Would love to see you soon and think of you every day.
    Peace and healing thoughts to you.