Any time you think that medicine is an exact science, consider me.
I was feeling a bit punk, so I went to see my PCP for a checkup. He was a bit worried about my kidneys and told me to get an x-ray. Since the only x-ray equipment in Alvin is my old x-ray specs, I had to drive to another town, and I waited until the next day. As I was driving, I got a call from my PCP, who said, "Your blood work is very bad. I'm afraid you're having renal failure. You need to forget the x-ray and get to an ER."
So I went home, packed a bag and got to an ER, where I was poked, tested, and given a room.
The next day, the attending physician came in and told me that I didn't have renal failure but that I most l likely had lymphoma. Because of Judy's illness and death, I blurted out, "What are the odds?"
The doctor misunderstood and said, "About 90% certainty."
The next day, the doctor said, "It doesn't appear to be lymphoma, after all. You might have colon cancer."
The next day, the doctor said, "It's not colon cancer, after all. All we can say now is that it's an adenocarcinoma of unknown origin."
Much more gloom.
The next day, the oncologist breezed into the room. "It now appears that you might have prostate cancer. That might turn out to be the best option of all. Well, my flight for London leaves in an hour. Ta-ta."
Me to Angela: "Get me out of this damn place."
We got out. The next day.
Angela and her husband, Tom, started pulling strings, and it turned out that they were good at it. In less than a week, I had an appointment at M. D. Anderson, but even then it took five more days before the prostate cancer was confirmed. You'd think that would be an easy one to spot, but not in my case. Nothing is ever easy when I'm involved, it seems.
There are many more harrowing (and funny [not to mention hugely embarrassing], in retrospect) stories I could tell about all this, and no doubt there will be many more. Maybe one of these days I'll get around to some of them.