I have a new “friend.” For the sake of this blog, its name is the “Blob.” He’s been with me for a while now, but I was just formally introduced to him when his picture appeared on an MRI Sunday night.
I have been getting goofy over the last couple years. Unexplained stuff, I could only explain by getting older: aches, pains, ringing in the ears and other assorted stuff that generally goes along with being over 40, as I am (first element of humor). Recently, it’s gotten worse. Add numb hands, feet and dropping stuff to the list of annoyances.
While shopping at the grocery store Sunday night I ran into a doctor friend, who asked me how I was doing. When I answered, no words came out. He got the picture. That conversation (or lack-thereof) led to a trip to an ICU (where I now have a super-secret pseudonym and password). That’s where I first met the “Blob.”
He’s plum-sized on the left frontal lobe. Poetic justice being what it is, this is the area of my brain that controls speech. So my new job may be as an ASL translator for important people, such as the popular band, Nickelback (second element of humor). But we’ll discuss job opportunities after I get this damn thing out of my head. That happens Thursday. They say it’ll take 5 hours. I work the night shift, so I see this as a nice little nap. When I wake up, we should know if it’s a good, bad or another type of “Blob” and what comes next.
Since we don’t know that stuff, it might be a good time to talk about all the possibilities. We’ve learned my doctor is the best there is. Listed as one of Oprah’s “Miracle Men” and has several 5-star yelp reviews. My buddy, Paul Ecke, stopped by and brought up a complication we hadn’t considered: my political leanings may change and I may wake up yelling “drill baby drill!” or finding wisdom in what Sarah Palin has to say. The point here is we’re entering territory about which I know little. Having my family and friends around me for the past two days has confirmed that my strength will come from humor—not worry.
Please think of me and the “blob” in happy terms, and as Paul also said “I’ll see you on the other side.” I’m pretty sure he meant the other side of the weekend.