I feel better today. I guess it is because some critical issues have been addressed. One is the Crown Molding for the house that we are moving to. And then there is the Doggy Door issue. And oh yeah, the issue with bumps on my neck.
The truth is that I haven’t felt like writing lately. There are internal and there are external thoughts, and my thoughts have been more inward. Talking about stuff has just seemed silly and uninteresting. But talking to myself about stuff was full of insight and expanding horizons which, when expressed out loud seemed, well -- silly and uninteresting. So inside I had an appreciative audience, and that is why you have been left out.
The smaller house we are moving to probably next week is weird. Marilyn has a thing about Crown Molding. I think it represents something finer – an achievement of taste and luxury. I’m rather ambivalent on the Crown Molding, but then I’m an architectural clod. But the house has odd ceilings. I don’t know why we didn’t pay attention to this when we initially viewed the house. To my way of thinking, ceilings and walls should be flat and meet in nice straight and even seams. But this house is blessed with ceilings that, for no discernable reason, suddenly jut off in odd angles. And this happens in most of the rooms. This is supposed to be modern I am told.
I asked the guys that are doing the painting and who are planning to install the Crown Molding if these strange angles would present a problem. “No, no problem at all.” They had dollar bills floating in their heads. The more confusing it was the more time it would take and the more money they would make. I also figured they had a new Compound Miter Saw that they wanted to try out.
The whole Crown Molding thing bothered both Marilyn and me. But we just couldn’t think it through. But last night our stepson sat down with us and simply said, “I think you should drop the Crown Molding idea.” After reacting with shock and indignation, we started imagining the house with the molding. Let’s see now. Would the molding follow all the weird cants and angles of where the ceiling met the wall? That wouldn’t look right. Maybe they didn’t follow all the changes but ignored them and just continued around the wall as if the ceiling hadn’t changed. That seemed odder.
Marilyn is chagrined. Our new house will have no Crown Molding – which is not what she envisioned at all. Our step son, with a simple statement, redirected our future.
This all occurred after I returned home from meeting with a ENT Surgeon. I have two bumps behind my jaw just beneath my ear lobes. They are pretty much unnoticeable unless someone starts staring intently and the sudden inspiration hits them to proclaim, “Hey Jerry, you are bumpy.”
This fact has led me on a journey which has eaten up my vacation time like mad. Let’s see, there was an Ultrasound which confirmed that yep, there were bumps. Then to a General Surgeon whose learned reaction was, “That’s odd. Bumps on both sides at once. That’s odd.” Then off to get a MRI. This is when they shove you in a tube and suddenly the machine starts screaming at you with burps and bangs and screeches all the while using tiny magnets to slice through my torso – so fast that I didn’t even feel it. Okay, I’m exaggerating. It wasn’t my whole torso being sliced up, just from the shoulders up. Kinda’ like being beheaded. Then back to the General Surgeon who got all agitated and said I needed to see an ENT Surgeon. Now!
Isn’t it amazing how a doctor’s demeanor can influence the life of a patient?
With dreaded fingers I punched in the number on my phone of Houston ENT, which is a pretty big operation here in Houstontown. In my mild manner I explained that I needed an ENT Surgeon now! What for? Bumps!
This was last Thursday. It happens that a surgeon could see me next Tuesday. There definition of now and my definition of now weren’t in synch. But the surgeon they scheduled me to see had magnificent credentials. So I clinched my teeth and went in to see her yesterday.
Now understand. I got a thick book from the library. ‘11/22/63’ by Stephen King. That way I would have something to read while in the hospital. I DVR’d a bunch of shows so I would have something to watch while recuperating at home after the hospital. I was prepared. I was pretty sure that I would be surgicated this week.
The surgeon was a woman – a confident, kind and open woman. She had my MRI results and asked me a bunch of questions and joked with me. She didn’t have ambulance attendants standing by. She did a bunch of things to me like stick an alien probe down my esophagus and taking a needle biopsy, which hurt. Her conclusion: She is almost certain that it isn’t cancer and she took the biopsy to confirm it. She will let me know the results in a couple of days. If it is cancer she will plop me in a hospital pretty quick and whack it out. If it isn’t then we have flexibility as to when we can schedule the surgery. She was calm and explained stuff and didn’t seem at all concerned. A doctor’s demeanor can make all the difference.
These are small tumors in my parotid glands.
And finally Marilyn ordered a new Doggy Door online after two weeks of fussing around about where we would install it and working out schemes of how to get the animals in and out of the screened porch.
So everything is now calm and smooth.
We are moving to our new house next week, by the way.