Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Nightmares continue. I'm seeing four doctors today (not because I'd be THAT sick, but mainly because I plan to cluster them together. May be coming down with my period, so gyno may have to be rescheduled.. Other than her, I've got the personal physician to send me to the dermatologist and my annual full body scan, which is more often than not very pleasant. I know enough by now to know what I'm looking at when it's all just shady and floppy on the screen..
             In the nightmare I took a train (there was a famous political couple on the station, she's a trophy wife but she's a doctor, so..) to go to a hospital, because my left foot was hurting a little. A little, but always and I limped just a bit, some days more than others. It was juts one of the minute conditions and I scheduled to had it checked out just because it was convenient. But once there, the head nurse warned me this will hurt and hurt for a week and they began to prep all kinds of simple but painful looking instruments, like a thin hooked nail and scalpels and such. Measuring and scanning the foot they saw that on the top of the arch there's a piece of glass and I figured they plan to take it out, even though it was like 2cm deep in. I kept asking if there is any way to do it not quite so painfully as if we were in the battlefield, but no, they wouldn't give me local anesthesia, even if I was willing to pay for it. They fixed my foot into a handle so I wouldn't move it and this magnificently fat sweaty surgeon - evidentially very good at what he did, because he was really cocky - came, his long greasy hair in a pony tail and he muttered, barely enough for me to make out what he was saying. I kept insisting - though trying to be a brave little soldier - that I am perfectly willing to live with that minute pain or pay for the painkiller and he did offer to give me one but I was really afraid he's gonna charge me some absurd price for it. He kept telling me, in a dismissive way, what this condition is called, but too quickly and as if I wouldn't know what it is anyway. Because he was a surgeon, there was no reasoning with him. He was there to butcher my foot. Then I woke up.