(no subject)
If you read here regularly you probably know that I have a close longtime friend named Nicole.
Nicole has a tumor on her pituitary gland. When that happens it fucks you all up. She's known about it for something like eight years, so she's been taking this drug to shrink it.
The drug also fucks you all up, which is unfortunate (and is why she's directed to take the drug in a high dose once a week before a day she'll be able to rest, but let's not get distracted). Since she started taking the drug the tumor has shrunk by 50%. Nicole got sick of her drug and tired of her tumor and told her doctor to aggressively pursue surgery, and then they both did.
Nicole hits the hospital floor at 6:00 a.m. this monday morning today. Her doctor just happens to personally know (funny how that works out) the brain surgeon who has become the leader in this type of tumor removal by discovering the best technique as well as helping to develop the best equipment, which he will be using. For her recovery (projected as one month of gradually decreasing intensity of care, in my mind) she has an extensive and well-rounded support group.
Her mother will be staying with her for like the first week or something, and she's a registered nurse. Rachael lent her a TV because she doesn't have one and she has to be in bed for a while. She just got back from a good friend who's a newly certified massage therapist, and she has more of those coming. It's likely I'll be taking the sleeping bag over there. Probably almost everybody who knows her will be stopping by to smoke a blunt, and that should kill a month by itself.
I'm not disguising my apprehension because the subject is the root of a common idiom. This time it is brain surgery.
But she's got everything in the world going for her, including you guys, now.
Nicole has a tumor on her pituitary gland. When that happens it fucks you all up. She's known about it for something like eight years, so she's been taking this drug to shrink it.
The drug also fucks you all up, which is unfortunate (and is why she's directed to take the drug in a high dose once a week before a day she'll be able to rest, but let's not get distracted). Since she started taking the drug the tumor has shrunk by 50%. Nicole got sick of her drug and tired of her tumor and told her doctor to aggressively pursue surgery, and then they both did.
Nicole hits the hospital floor at 6:00 a.m. this monday morning today. Her doctor just happens to personally know (funny how that works out) the brain surgeon who has become the leader in this type of tumor removal by discovering the best technique as well as helping to develop the best equipment, which he will be using. For her recovery (projected as one month of gradually decreasing intensity of care, in my mind) she has an extensive and well-rounded support group.
Her mother will be staying with her for like the first week or something, and she's a registered nurse. Rachael lent her a TV because she doesn't have one and she has to be in bed for a while. She just got back from a good friend who's a newly certified massage therapist, and she has more of those coming. It's likely I'll be taking the sleeping bag over there. Probably almost everybody who knows her will be stopping by to smoke a blunt, and that should kill a month by itself.
I'm not disguising my apprehension because the subject is the root of a common idiom. This time it is brain surgery.
But she's got everything in the world going for her, including you guys, now.