Urologists and Ultrasound

Thursday-After a rough night and shower my self examination revealed very abnormal swelling and rash in a bad place. Calling my Oncologist, I was referred to my Urologist. Of course he is not in today, so I get to talk with his nurse, who suggests I go to an emergency room, which is another way of saying I do not have time for you today as far as I am concerned. I told him I would deal with it and hung up. You have to push sometimes, and my urgency prompted Nurse Darrel to consult with the available urologist, who is in clinic today and ‘agreed to see me’ at 1 PM.
The cancer center is the first encounter I have had with urologists born here in the US. Today a strapping young man with a flat top right out of 1959 and empathy on his face stepped in. With the Clarian professionalism I have become accustomed to he apologized for the delay (although we did not have an appointment). As I dropped my drawers and lay back on the table I pondered my lack of concern. Who would have thought I would so willingly turn over my one eyed wonder weasel for a perfect stranger to pull poke, pull, prod, squeeze and otherwise manhandle, but that is exactly what I did. He let me know it was expected, and laying there on the table I looked down and saw for the first time my left leg was much larger than my right. ‘Part of it….,’ came the doctor’s response. To be safe we will do an ultrasound, make sure we have no clots.
The Ultrasound
Away we went me in my wheel chair and Van at the helm, careening through the long corridors of a hospital generations old, with new hospital built on and around old many times over. We got on the elevator and down to the basement per instructions. Waiting quietly for the doors to open I began to wonder when they would when I sensed a draft. No more had I thought that is odd when we realized the elevator doors were open, only behind us. In a confused daze, we stepped out into the basement, and following the directions (right turn down hall, right turn past desk, right turn down long hall, brown desk is check in) we quickly found ourselves exiting the building. Oh yeah, the directions presumed you went out the front of the elevator, not the back. Hospitals are famous for elevator doors on both sides.
Long ago I lost my reluctance to run someone down and ask directions and just then a giant golf cart with all terrain treads and a woman at the wheel came down the hall.
‘Follow me” she said with a grin after Van explained where we were going, and off we went, making left turns until arriving. Basement smell permeated the air and I pondered what it must be like to work here every day, like a miner going down every morning to your station. This was radiology, ultrasound, and even Doppler, (as if anybody could have a thunderstorm internally). As always a momentary thought, of the kabillions of tons of concrete and steel overhead and what would happen if there was an earthquake, passed through my mind. I scanned for escape routes and finding none put the thought out of my head. A charming young lady came into the waiting room and called my name. I followed her down the hall to another examination room, passing one suffering semi conscious soul along the way. Looking at her I saw real suffering and felt kind of guilty for walking around and ever complaining about my pain.
We entered the room, and the floor tiles were of odd configuration and not connected to each other, more like in a frame. Ah, this is an isolation room, where sounds and motions are kept at bay by design and device. The machine had a hose of ultrasonic hand held sensors of various sizes and shapes. She gave me a towel to maintain my modesty, instructed me to remove my pants and cover with the towel. I lay down on the table and the pain of being on my back began to build from the start. So much for modesty, as she lifted the towel and folded it over She said she would get me some hot gel. I stared at the ceiling as she laid a bead of hot jelly along the inside of my leg from top to ankle. It seemed to stay in place, and I wondered what chemistry allowed this jelly to be so hot yet not runny. Then with modesty be damned determination she pulled the towel away and began. She had tumbling tresses of black hair, and at 5 feet or so and on the heavy side she walked with a little waddle. Her hands were small but wrists bulging, an interesting look I thought. Holding the sensor in one hand and pecking at the keyboard with the other she went up and down on my leg sometimes pressing in, sometimes putting her hand on the other side and pressing. Occasionally the sound of rushing blood flowing to my heart rhythm could be heard in the room. I thought about suggesting sampling these odd sounds and sewing them together in one melody, it could be a hit. She was completely immersed in her work, placing the device, pecking on the keyboard, moving, repeating until she had gone the length of both legs. Likely only 20 minutes went by and we were done.