Fun with Tumors!
So not long ago I went into Charity Hospital (cause I have no health insurance) to check out the odd lump on my throat. After a number of visits and a needle biopsy, it was found to be a benign tumor of my right parotid salivatory gland (I don't know man, I have a cyst on one of my other salivatory glands as well. What the fuck?). So it was decided that the tumor must be surgically removed. Now this was discovered about a month or two before this last semester was going to end. I was scheduled to come in for CAT scans and checkups as well as for preparations for surgery. Now because it is a tumor, the only times I could come in for this craziness was during the cancer clinic days which were only Mondays and Thursdays at 8:00am.

So every Thursday for three weeks I missed school, which was two or three hours away from Charity hospital, slowly getting behind in my work and having to argue with a non-understanding professor about my absences. This is where it gets fun.

So for three weeks I miss school. On the third week, I'm thinking to myself, "yes, bring it on Doc. I'm off next week for spring break you can schedule me for appointments every damn day for all I care." In which case the Doctor comes forth with, "so we are going to schedule for two weeks from today to come back in." Now what the fuck is that shit? out of a five week period, one of which I'm actually out of school, they schedule me for every week that I will have to miss classes. So whatever, just a fluke, I'm not bitter.

So School finally ends and I have a two and a half week period before I start my summer classes. I had specifically scheduled the surgery to be the first week (Wednesday) out of school, so that I had ample time to recover before I started class. However, they call me the evening before to tell me that the surgeon had to cancel, but would free up his entire schedule the following Wednesday to perform my surgery and nothing, NOTHING BY THE GODS, barring some unforseen emergency on that EXACT DAY AND TIME would keep him from this. So my surgery was rescheduled for the week before the week that I start summer classes, but that is cool because the surgery is on a Wednesday and the summer classes didn't actually start until the following Thursday, still leaving me a good amount of time to recover before classes.

So the morning of surgery, AS I WAKE UP AT FRICKIN FOUR IN THE GODAMN MORNING AFTER A NIGHT OF NO SLEEP OF ANY MENTION, I head to the hospital with my parents and girlfriend to go under the loving gleam of the scalpel. All was going well, I suppose, I strip down, don a gown and hair net thing, and wait in this ward bed for my moment. The surgery, which I was the first one scheduled for 5:15am, was delayed a bit due to a gunshot victim from the night before. However, a little later in the morning a lady finally comes with a gurney, and after my farewells and what not, am carted up to anesthesiology (hmmm...I wonder if that word has been butchered?) for my final paperwork and for the bombardment of drugs. Now, luckily, I was told to wait on the drugs until a Doctor could look at my CAT scans again to see if they wanted to remove the cyst as well as the tumor because I may need to sign another permission paper, which I must be uninfluenced for. I say luckily because, as I lay on my gurney in naught but a gown and hairnet, protected from the world by a sheet and some foil blanket, a Doctor comes in with the greeting, "I have some really bad news." After I fight the urge to shit all over myself over a statement like that, I ask what said news was. Turns out the Surgeon's father had had to be rushed to the ER for an angiogram and that the surgery would have to once again be rescheduled, this time it is for the 9th. This date is the first full week of summer school, insurring that I miss at the very least two days of class.

All of this is just further proof that the Wallace name has just been fucked in the luck department since William!