Walnuts on My Windshield #24

February 11, 2005

I am very clean. Very, very, very clean. Last Monday, I suddenly became aware of a physical problem in a difficult location. Let's just say it was a location where a man will never have a problem. A small and somewhat painful lump seemed to be growing where no lump should grow. I have experienced similar items before - generally swollen, inflamed, lymph nodes that shrank and disappeared after the religious application of hot compresses. On Tuesday and Wednesday, not wanting to visit the doc unnecessarily, I sat in a tub of scalding hot water (hereafter referred to as SHW) a couple times, but did not achieve the desired result.

I called Dr. Kym's office Thursday morning. She told Nurse Chris (female) to tell me that I needed to soak the area in SHW (duh!) for twenty minutes four times that day (aargh!), and come in Friday at 11:00 AM. If the soaks were doing the trick, the supposed cyst would be to a point that she could cut it open and drain it. What a recreational thought.

I carried my big alarm clock (the one with the huge face, a.k.a. "The Fire Bell") into the bathroom and placed it strategically on the counter, so I'd know exactly when my twenty minutes were up. Soaking in SHW is not an operation that one would want to inadvertently overdo, for say, twenty-one minutes. I collected a stack of reading material - mostly all those periodicals that arrive unsolicited in my mailbox, but which I feel compelled to read because they might contain some gem of knowledge I can't live without; plus a couple books I have been plodding through - and arranged it all in two stacks on the toilet seat. I kicked shut the ductwork vent to the bathroom, knowing that I would be SO hot upon exiting the tub that I would not be able to tolerate any additional fan-forced heat. I ran a trickle of SHW into the tub, departed for a few minutes, and returned to check it with my left foot. Yeeeee-ow! Intense pain; just the right temp for the task. I eased myself into the agonizingly hot water. Ugh. I waited a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g time and then glanced over at the clock. Hmmmmm. . . only 19 minutes and 45 seconds to go.

When the designated twenty minutes had finally elapsed, I stood up. From the waist down, I probably had first-degree burns, and from the waist up, I was sweating profusely, even my scalp. There was nothing for it but to shower and shampoo before re-entering my clothes. This procedure was repeated three more times that day. . . and once the next morning, before heading to the doctor's office.

It had already occurred to me that, in order for Dr. Kym to cut this cyst open, she would have to use a knife. Being a kind lady, she would surely deaden the area first, which would mean an injection with a needle. Yikes! Neither the knife nor the needle sounded the least bit recreational, so I devised a secret plan.

As per usual at a doctor's office, upon arriving, I spent a while in the waiting room. I was then escorted first to the scale (one does wonder why nurses feel compelled to weigh patients, regardless of the reason for their visit; would they weigh me if I had a splinter in my toe?), and into the examining room. It happened to be the room furnished in pastel woman and sporting one of those little short tables with the stirrups - intended to put me into a western mood, perhaps? My blood pressure was fine. Nurse Chris tossed me a sheet, asked me to disrobe my lower half and "make myself comfortable" (yeah, right) on the table. Dr. Kym would be in shortly.

Although I was wearing only a sheet for a skirt at this point, I still had on a blouse with a front pocket, and hidden in that pocket was my secret weapon: a tiny tube of Emla cream. Allow me to explain. Andrew had to have a dead tooth pulled when he was four. Because of potential complications, our regular dentist sent him to an oral surgeon. Because of his age, the oral surgeon would only do the extraction on the condition that Andrew be unconscious. Achieving that state was to be accomplished with IV sedation, which would require a needle into his vein. Most four-year-olds don't enjoy that very much, so the oral surgeon provided me (for a fee of some $15) a tube of Emla cream, which I was to smear liberally on both Andrew's inner elbows and cover with the accompanying occlusive (air-tight, clear plastic) bandages before the procedure. I was skeptical, but it worked like a charm. Andrew never even felt the stick. No kidding! He just kept chatting with the nurse and me, until he got woozy and fell asleep mid-sentence. Truly amazing! There are other times I wish he would fall asleep in mid-sentence, but I digress.

Now, facing a needle and a knife where neither should ever go, I was armed and dangerous. Dr. Kym may slice and dice, but I would feel nothing. I applied the Emla liberally, and for about twenty seconds felt quite smug and happy perched on my throne. I skipped the occlusive bandage part, because the only way I could imagine to do that would be to sit on a Zip-Loc.

Unfortunately, there is one little fact that the instructions on the Emla tube fail to mention. True, in time it does completely deaden all feeling. However, before that happens, your skin rather quickly achieves the distinct sensation of being totally and completely on FIRE!!! If you have ever applied anything like BenGay or some other skin cream that contains menthol, you may have a teeny, tiny, vague idea of what I'm talking about. Considering the location, I was almost immediately in a certain amount of agony. At first it seemed funny, but as the "heat" continued to increase rapidly, I began to wonder if I had done something stupid and/or dangerous. And, in any case, what could I do now? I certainly couldn't run out into the hall in my very long white toga and yell, "Fire!" I wasn't even sure that sitting in an ice chest would help, and I had no access to ice. In addition to the pain of the heat, I realized that I might soon have to explain my predicament to Dr. Kym. Then I would be both on fire and embarrassed.

There was really nothing to do but wait and pray, which I did. The temperature continued to rise for the longest seven minutes of my life. The tube had said that applications in such situations were to be made eight to ten minutes before the procedure. Not knowing exactly when Dr. Kym would arrive with her instruments of torture, or how long the anesthetic effect would persist, I had waited in the sheet on the western table for a few minutes before administering the med. Now, just as the heat finally leveled off somewhere around 154 degrees F, in strode Dr. Kym and Nurse Chris. Realizing that it was futile to try to hide my secret from her, I came straight to the point: "Every time I look at the two of you from this angle, you have only two things in mind: needles and knives. Therefore, I have armed myself with Emla cream." (Dr. Kym began to smile.) "I read the directions and it said to apply it eight to ten minutes before you stab me." (Nurse Chris tried to stifle a chuckle.) "So, I did, and now you have exactly two minutes to do your deed, and I AM ON FIRE!!!" (They both burst out laughing uncontrollably, and Dr. Kym hollered at Nurse Chris, "Quick, get the knife!")

I mumbled something about suing for improper labeling because there was no warning about Emla cream being flammable. Dr. Kym examined me and decided that the situation was totally benign and surgery wouldn't be necessary, although I was certainly well-prepped for it and unable to feel a thing! Instead, she wanted to me to continue the twenty-minute SHW soaks four times a day until the cyst went away on its own. In addition, she wanted me to take Keflex for a week (an antibiotic; read: "yeast infection") which I begged off. She said that without the Keflex I might have to soak more days, but as long as the situation continued to improve, which it appeared to be doing, she was okay with forgoing the antibiotic.

I dressed, left, and went home to my new hideout, the tub. The Emla endured for an hour and a half, wearing off about same the time I stepped back into the SHW. I resigned myself to a daily soaking regimen: 7:15 AM, 11:45 AM, 4:30 PM, 9:30 PM. Start-to-finish, each round takes about 30 minutes. That's two HOURS sucked out of my day, every day! Could you subtract two hours from your day every day and still get everything done??? A lot of things have fallen behind: housework, schoolwork, cooking, errands; you name it. But reading is getting caught up (ha ha!). After all, there are only a limited number of things you can do while sweating in a tub of SHW.

To be fair, I must say that Dr. Kym had mentioned an alternative to the soaks. She said hot compresses would be just as effective. I should heat a wet cloth in the micro and apply it to the area of concern. I told her that "applying it to the area" meant sitting on it, and I explained that, although that might work at her house, it wouldn't work at mine. For one thing, a compress only stays scalding hot for about three and a half minutes. Then you have to heat another one in the micro to replace it. This requires either sitting in front of the microwave for twenty minutes, or racing back and forth between the kitchen and a private location (my second-floor bedroom) every two and a half minutes. Neither option really appealed. I wasn't about to spend two hours a day sitting in the kitchen in my birthday suit or repeatedly streaking through a houseful of children!!!

Scheduling soaks around an active life of much coming and going has been challenging, but I have solved that problem by simply omitting sleep from the daily routine. Procuring sufficient hot water has also been a bit problematic. Although we haven't been using the dishwasher lately - that's another story - numerous showers are taken, and, of course, laundry is an on-going process. After numerous false starts, I have determined that the optimal system is for me to run a shallow tub of SHW, enter it, (displacing enough water to increase the depth significantly!), and leave a trickle of SHW running for the entire twenty minutes. This prevents the water from cooling off, and it simultaneously aids my weight loss program by increasing the sweat factor. Then, the very moment I leap from the tub, I kick the vent open briefly and holler down to the first floor for a kid to start a load of wash. He or she does, we all wait about 3.75 hours for the water heater to recover, and the process is repeated. It is really challenging on days when there are four or five loads of laundry to do!

It has now been ten days since the fire at Dr. Kym's office, and I am the poster child for waterloggedness. The cyst is just about gone, and I have gradually reduced myself down to one soak per day. Last night's was #35, and I think it is fair to say that I am clean. Very, very, very clean!

Until next time,
Patty

From My Bookshelf

The Bipolar Child by Demitri and Janice Papolos, rank 8. In my ongoing quest to understand Josiah and facilitate his progress, I am forever reading and researching. This book seems to speak to the heart of some of his major challenges, and it gives me great hope. It's the first book I've read that really "fits" Josiah. Except for one chapter that was very difficult for me to follow (the one about the physiology of the brain - like going back to college; ugh!), it was extremely practical. A very encouraging book.

O Rugged Land of Gold! by Martha Martin, rank 8. This is one of those absolutely amazing true stories. Martha and her husband were prospecting for gold in a remote area of Alaska in the 1940s. He left by boat to take some supplies to their twelve-year-old son who was attending school in another location. While he was gone, a severe storm came up. She was caught outdoors in a landslide and knocked unconscious. She awoke to find herself balanced on a precipice, suffering from a concussion, an injured leg, and a broken arm. By the way, she was six months pregnant! This book is essentially the journal she kept in an effort to maintain her sanity while waiting and wondering whether her husband would return or had been killed at sea in the same storm. It drags in places, but overall is fascinating. What a woman!

Whining: 3 Steps to Stopping it Before the Tears and Tantrums Start by Audrey Ricker, rank 9. I picked this up at Foozle's on the deep discount table, because the title made me think of Andrew. It is a gem and just what I needed. This author is very organized, which I like, and her points are clear and easy to implement. I applied one of her concepts for the first time the other day and it worked just like she said it would! Now I need to continue to be consistent, but I finally have hope that the ongoing whining of my youngest will eventually subside.

Destination: Antarctica by Robert Swan, rank 7. A children's book, but fairly informative. The author planned and executed, with two companions, a walking trip from the edge of Antarctica to the South Pole in the 1980s, to imitate what an earlier explorer did. No dogs, no radios, no air support; no nothing but three men, each pulling a sled of food and equipment over more than 500 miles!

Quote of the Week:

"Curiosity is one of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind." ~ Samuel Johnson

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