Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Moment isn't really a Moment

When you're told you have cancer the second time, there's no dramatic moment. It would be hard to make a movie that centered around it. But if they did, I think Glenn Close would have a part in there somewhere. Not because I'm necessarily a Glenn Close fan. I'm not really. It just feels right for her at this time in her career. 

When you're told about cancer the first time, yeah, there is a dramatic moment. And a lot of dramatic moments after that. But by the second time, you've already seen the signs. You've experienced the symptoms. You know it's there. You're just ready for someone to say it. Sort of like smelling a foul odor and waiting for someone to admit who farted. 

I farted on January 1. I went into the emergency room. Here's a tip that I'm sure hospital professionals don't want you to know. Tell them you have chest pains. they will see you first and immediately start working on you. Now, of course, if you have a broken arm you probably can't tell them you have chest pains and expect them to be happy about attending to you. But if you do have chest pains and don't want to go through the many strange and surreal hours of sitting in a emergency room, don't worry. You'll skip right past the guy who fell on his head. 

I still feel bad for the doctor who told me. He probably was pained. But once again, I wasn't. 

No comments:

Post a Comment