Surgery--Again

As we say in the 'hood, you got that right!

No X-ray. They shove a small camera up my nose and down my throat. They see my throat on a screen. I have to say eeeeeeee a lot.

No fingerprints in the wrong place. Four doctors looked at the screen. I was offered a view and declined.

So it's not a mistake. It's just a question of whether what they were seeing is something to be concerned about.

Thanks for the good wishes. And butrflynet, glad you iked my comment.

Hey Goil,

How are you feeling today? Still busy with work?

I know the 17th is creeping up so I just wanted to let you know that you're in my heart and I'm thinking of you. ((((((((((Boida)))))))))x

Catching up, sorry to see the bad news. I know a biopsy is pretty much bad news no matter what but hope that the results show that it's not a concern. Will be thinking about you on the 17th (and before, and after).

Hi gang, I bit more confusion on the getting approval part. I'm gonna try again tomorrow at the hated hospital. I assume I'll be getting preadmission medical clearance as well as financial clearance. I kvetched to the Bellevue doc about my breathing concerns. So now I'm gonna have two medical clearances--one at the HH and one at Bellevue.

Been having ashtma problems. Doesn't make me any more confident. I suspect that the asthma was triggered by the stress.

Yeah, I'm still working. Finished one project. The other is almost done. There's been a reorganization at the place I work for. No one is quite sure how I'll be paid or when.

On the whole, I say feh.

Say, "M'kan leben aber er lasst nischt."

Andy, I have no idea what that means.

Rough translation from Litvak Yiddish: You can live, but they won't let you.

feh, indeed.

The waiting and wondering alone is probably enough to trigger your asthma. Hopefully everything will be settled and sorted soon.

Feh squared!

and I'll raise you an OY VEY!

I do hope you're able to get it sorted with the HH today.

((((((((Boida))))))))))) x

Feh cubed..

I managed to get myself to the HH at 10:30. Still had to see the finance lady. The waiting room made Bellevue look like Buckingham Palace.

Waited. Waited. Saw the lady. She and I hit it off. She wants to hire me to help her rework a resume. I couldn't negotiate the hospital fee. That happens after I get the bill. Go figure.

Then I had to get medically cleared. A very nice waiting room. Not too crowded. I waited. Waited. Saw a nurse. She mainly told me what to do and expect. I won't know what time to show up until the day before. Phooey. I gotta tell my picker-upper what time. (They won't let me out of the hospital without a picker-upper.)

She knew I was gonna get medical clearance at Bellevue, so she checked my BP and sent me home.

I have not yet fully recovered from getting home. Walked a block. Had to stop five or six times. Couldn't breathe. Got some groceries. Couldn't carry them and breathe. Had to rest in the lobby.

I tried to take a nap, but my stomach is acting up.

I have no idea why my innards are in such a state of rebellion. Shape up you organs. Without me, you're just offal.

You're scared. Your stomach is responding to that. It doesn't know that the way it responds isn't helpful. It thinks you need to be ready to run away or hit something very hard.

Just checking in to see if you had news. I see things are still up in the air. I am so sorry. I know it is stressful and frustrating and I am with Dlowan in that surely is why your stomach and everything else is acting up. I think once you know something it will settle down. Praying that it is a good something and that all the answers to the questions fall in positive places.

Gah...I hate all that pre-stuff. And I hate the post negotiating what you will pay too. All such a pain in the tookus. blech.

From the time I woke up (not long ago) to now, the old Kingston Trio song "MTA" keeps running through my head. Charlie was trapped on the train. "No, he'll never return, And his fate is still unlearned."

Why? HH won't let me out without someone to pick me up. I got someone to pick me up--Sheila. But she's asking me questions like where will I be. What time? I don't know. I don't have a cell phone. Even when I find out, I won't be able to call her to let her know. I'll be trapped there forever. I'll never return, no I'll never return, and my fate is still unlearned.

I'd rather worry about this than the biopsy. It's less stressful. Because we all know that I'll get out eventually. Don't we. I keep having to remind myself that I'm not helpless. Although I will be all doped up.

Friday I go to Bellevue for my medical clearance. I'm not sure I'm gonna get cleared. Asthma. We'll see.

I appreciate you guys. The concern and caring. What a group.

BTW, I was interviewed by another psychiatrist yesterday (for a social work organization). She asked me a bunch of questions. Diagnosis? Smart as a whip. And not nuts. Not surprised at the first (although I'm not as smart as I used to be). A little disappointed at the second.

Love you, Robbie.
Now then, can your friend find a place to park (I know, not easy) and show up at the appointment time? I've stories on all this, but I'll be quiet.

Park? You mean a car? This is NYC! She'll take the subway.

Ok, ok, it's NYC. Can she get there earlier?

Earlier than what?