Alas, No New Pictures
Spent the morning at BorgHealth getting scoped. I’d hoped to have some photos to share – some frontal organs to match the images from the rear in 2003. Alas, it was not to be.
The procedure (a cystoscopy for you technical types) was not fun. Flat on my back in a stylish little gown, fiber optics were run up the urethra (yes, inserted through that little hole there) and my amazing doctor took a little virtual tour of my urinary tract all the way up to the bladder. While touring the bladder he grabbed a little souvenir – something to remember me by, and study and test and such. Then in a flash, both in sense of time and the blazing pain, the fiber optics were removed and I was free to clean myself up and skedaddle. Which I quickly did before they could change their minds and run that camera anywhere else.
I have no idea what, if anything, is wrong. Due to the history of prostate cancer and the diverticulitis my great doctors are opting for that ‘abundance of caution’ thing, and I let them do their thing. Failing lab tests is nothing new. It’s the reason I was a liberal arts major. BorgHealth takes it seriously though, and I like that they have a purpose. I was just hoping to get some photos out of the procedure to use for this year’s holiday cards. Now we’re going to have to go with ‘puppy on the beach’ and be like every other couple.
The tests came back today showing nothing out of the ordinary, or to use their medical words, “nothing malignant”. I’m clean, I’m healthy, and I never want to have that done to me again, ever.
And what about the previously failed lab tests? A little mystery is the spice of life, and ignorance is bliss. Probably just a byproduct of the 153 little metal seeds still residing in my prostate, but I should rest easier knowing all the really bad options have been ruled out.
For once you have eliminated the impossible, the remaining option, however improbable… or whatever it was Spock said.