stoner

by justine

finally consulted a surgeon who came highly recommended by my uncle, datuk koh (subtle, right? i know). thought it would be over in a snap, but my outpouring of paranoia-fueled questions didn’t end till about 11 (i was in around 9am). doctor ong has this wonderful bedside manner speaking super low and then flashing the most sincere smile you’ll see in 10 years. also you can never go wrong with a droll sense of humour.

me, skin crawling: do patients wake up during surgery?

doctor: i really prefer they don’t do that. they tend to ask a lot of questions.

i was terribly disappointed that he’s self-proclaimed “old skool” and won’t be making me a dvd recording of the keyhole surgery (that’s laparoscopic surgery for those of you who care) to watch with a bucket of popcorn. though, he did promise to pass me the, erm, specimen inclusive of all the little buggers so i can “string them up and make a necklace”.

after a lengthy q&a aka nervous grilling, there are a few things i can safely conclude:

  1. 11 out of 10 persons on the street can’t tell the difference between the gallbladder and the kidney
  2. the same 11 persons dispense interchangeable advice
  3. after 3 consultations, i’m even more confused why the gallbladder (and while we’re at it, the damn appendix) even exists
  4. people who get gallstones are supposed to be Female, Forty, Fat, Fertile
  5. hospitals have late check-out charges just like hotels

my “social” calendar is now strangely full and i feel happening in all the wrong ways. thursday, BAT karaoke. this weekend, krabi. next week, surgery and after a week-long medical leave, minion and i are getting some ink done together. all just before i pop over to the new agency.

totally random, but assunta girls all just give out the same vibe. i can smell them a mile away sial.