OCR Text |
Show 185 "A lump?" she is asking. "My home health aide noticed it in the shower this morning," I report. Home health is still coming by to help with the difficult parts of my life - getting bathed and dressed. Cleaning my house. It is a spongy lump, close to the spine at waist level, three inches in diameter and spreading. "I hate to think what this might be," Dr. Chappie is saying, pushing on it, letting it go back to its original shape, pushing on it again. She is no longer smiling. I am suddenly hating the possibilities even more. "We'll need to aspirate this," she is continuing, "to identify it." By the fact that she is no longer looking me in my eyes as she speaks, I am coming to understand that I will not like what she has to say next. "And if this fluid is somehow connected to your spinal fluid, we are going to have to be extremely careful." I am hearing the words before they are spoken: "Let's put you in the hospital to do this. We've messed around for five days and I need to make sure of what we're doing here." |