Archives of The Cheerful Oncologist, Volume 2

Time for your narrator to head up north where the lakes are clear and the mosquitoes look at tourists like Tantalus ogling a fruit salad at the local farmer’s market. While I enjoy a bit of well-deserved R & R - fishing, water-skiing, hitting the ice cream parlor - I’ll try to do a little vacation-blogging.

But not too much.

P.S. I do a really mean loon call - anyone else out there good at this?

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.
-Albert Einstein

Gather around, dear readers for another episode from that interminable saga entitled The Cheerful Oncologist, His Foot, and His Mouth. Act IV: Shoe Leather for Lunch Again.

The Scene: the nurses’ station at the local healing factory

The Time: noonish

Dramatis Personae: The C.O., respiratory therapist, unnamed patient who shall remain nameless

(T.C.O. sitting next to bed of patient)

Patient: Do you think I’ll be going home tomorrow?

T.C.O.: Yes, if we can get your oxygen delivered to your home, and the pulmonary doctor agrees.

Patient: That’s great.

(T.C.O. exits stage left and enters nurses’ station)

Respiratory Therapist: Do you have any new orders on Mr. X? [His name is not really Mr. X, but you know how these HIPPA laws are stymieing medical bloggers -Ed.]

T.C.O.: No. (Succinct, ain’t I?)

R.T.: I can’t believe how sick he is…with fluid in both lungs. Doesn’t he have skin cancer?

T.C.O. (subtly curling end of left lip while simultaneously altering pitch of voice one or two notches toward haughtiness): He doesn’t just have “skin cancer” - he has malignant melanoma, which-

R.T. (focusing laser-like eyes somewhere near T.C.O.’s optic chiasma): I know about melanoma. (turns up right sleeve) I had a melanoma removed here four years ago and I am still scared to death of relapse.

T.C.O. (feeling top of head for long furry ears): Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know….(simpering voice trails off and posture sags toward earth, creating an image last seen by the therapist when touring the American Museum of Natural History).

End of Act IV

(For further examples of this disconcerting propensity tune in again to the next episode when our hero asks Mary Todd Lincoln: “Other than that ma’am, how did you like the play?”)