Medical Run-Ins

So it took quite a while to finish all the posts on the vacation, and I'm really far behind in terms of normal everyday blogging. Three weeks, to be precise, and lotsa stuff can happen in three weeks.

This is a post about all things medical.

While I was away, Kiwi had his spinal operation, for some unpronounceable affliction. Apparently he was in quite a bad state after that, and I'm sorry I wasn't around to visit him then. I've seen him twice since I returned, and I'm glad that he's much better now. In fact, when we visited him last night with lots of food, he felt good enough to actually leave the house. He had to wear a back brace, but at least that's a step forward. We went to Meihui's and played with her doggie, and he was even up for dessert afterwards. Here's hoping he makes a speedy recovery and rejoins our Friday night suppers soon.

Apparently I was kept too busy with work to find out, but my 15 year-old cousin broke his hand just a few days before I left for vacation. I hate this. Just because you weren't around when they first discussed it, they assume you know and then no one ever thinks to update you on it anymore. But anyway, it's a funny story.

See, apparently he was very quite pissy already about something or other, and playing some game on the PC. His eldest brother comes into the room and rebukes him about something or other, at which point the little hothead gets rather furious. He leaves the room. The next thing the eldest brother hears is a loud CRACK. The silly boy had punched the wall in anger, breaking a couple of bones in his hand. He even needed an operation to insert some metal rods inside. I wish I had pictures of the x-rays; his brother was showing them to everyone that came around. Anyway, I'm not too worried about him; kids heal fast. Besides, this might be good downgrade fodder when it comes to National Service.

As some of you may remember, I have a wart problem on my feet. No, they're not gone yet. The previous treatment was rather useless. My regular doctor thus referred me to the National Skin Centre for more intensive treatment. I went for my first appointment two weeks ago.

After the doctor looked at them - a pretty cursory examination, might I add - he sent me over to the treatment room where a nurse would administer the liquid nitrogen treatment. She looked harmless, and I thought, "How bad could it be?" She seemed to be rather adept at using the blade to scrape layers off. Then she took out this scary-looking canister with a trigger and nozzle and all. "It may be a bit painful," she said helpfully.

Understatement of the year. I tried very hard to be all manly and not show any major signs of distress. Then she stopped. Whew, it's over, I thought.

She looked up and smiled. "One more time, OK?"

O Devil Nurse! I might have whimpered at this point. Honestly, the details are fuzzy. But I do remember having Audition flashbacks to the nurse going "kirikirikirikirikiri" while inserting needles into the guy's eyeballs.

Anyway that treatment left me with a huge blister the size of a quarter (or a 50-cent coin) on my right sole, and pain (but thankfully no blister) on my left. I was also left a cripple for about four days. I spent the rest of the day with Angeline as I'd promised to see a movie with her, but it was certainly no fun hobbling around in Orchard Road with all the speed of a 90 year-old grandmother, wincing with each step. One of the biggest tortures was being less than 10 metres from a traffic light and seeing it start from green, the walking man blink, and finally come turn red just as I got to the edge of the pavement. This happened almost every single time I had to cross the street. It didn't help that the movie really sucked balls.

The second treatment a few days ago wasn't that bad; I only limped around for half a day or so. Hopefully it'll get better as time passes. I can see the ones on my left sole are almost gone, which is a good thing. Just a few more sessions...