With Terry out of town, I had to rely on good friends to chauffeur me to and from hospital today for my biopsy. Ermes picked me up at 7:00 am, his throaty sounding Subaru waking up the neighbors. I could only hope that Friend of the Year Tom’s car would be quieter for the trip home.
I was greeted at Medical Imaging Intake by Steve, a familiar face who had kindly saved donuts for me after my last procedure at North York General.
“Everything seems to be running on time today, Mr. Daoust. We’ll have you set up for the biopsy shortly,” he said cheerfully.
Whenever a middle aged man pronounces my last name properly, I suspect he was a Dan Daoust Leaf fan back in the 80’s. When I asked him about it, he agreed,
“Yep, Dangerous Dan was one of my favourites.”
“That makes you about 43 by my reckoning,” I ventured.
“Not bad. I’m 44. You should work at the EX.” Steve’s not aware that birthdays and ages are my Rain Man-like specialties.
Like a couple of old friends at a bar, I engaged him in a Doug Gilmour story; he talked about golfing with Steven Stamkos last summer.
A few minutes later, an elderly Scottish gentleman directed me to a change room. A volunteer for the past nine years, Bill was in an ebullient mood for good reason. One of the service coordinators had just given him a 40 ounce bottle of Scotch and a box of Tootsie Rolls for Christmas.
Maybe I should consider volunteering at North York.
Next it was a quick session with a friendly IV nurse and then I was off to the CT room. The intervention radiologist, Doctor Deif, introduced himself as he readied the tools of his biopsy craft.
Foolishly I asked, “I hope this isn’t the first one of these you’ve done.”
“Not really,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “And besides, if I do get stuck, I’ve can always Google it.”
Bazinga!
After some local freezing to my abdomen, the nurse inquired, “Do you want something to take the edge off the pain?”
“I’m fine. Let’s get started,” I said, banking on the veracity of my iridologist’s claim about my high pain threshold.
Dr. Deif seemed happy to oblige me with a play by play of the procedure.
“Well, the ultrasound I’m looking at shows two or three small grape sized tumours on the wall of the bowel as well as a myriad of very tiny tumours. The tiny ones look residual.”
“How many are in a myriad?” I asked tentatively.
“Oh, about twenty or thirty but they shouldn’t be any problem,” he replied.
I’ll spare you the details of the next twenty minutes but suffice it to say the metallic clicking sound of the doctor's probing instrument was a bit sobering, even for an ironman.
“That’s it, were done,” he finally said. “I actually got pieces from two tumours. Here, have a look at them.”
He seemed proud of his work as he held up a small glass containing what looked like two slimy pieces of faded asparagus.
It was strange feeling to come face to face with my nemesis.
Seeing my clandestine opponent has only made me more determined "to shine the light of words upon it."
I was then whisked off to recovery where a delightful nurse tried to make me comfortable. Thresia didn’t seem especially busy as I was the only biopsy patient for the day. I didn't let her dote on me. I hate that stuff.
But I did get her talking about her family and the fact that her daughter Andrea teaches biology at St. Patrick’s downtown.
“She must know John Shanahan and Paul Adams then,” I interjected.
“Of course,” she answered, affirming my belief in six or less degrees of separation.
It was 1 pm. As I got ready to leave, I wanted to say goodbye to my new buddy Steve at the reception desk.
“Hey, are you chained in this cubicle all day?” I teased as I waved awkwardly at him.
Noticing my jacket, he smiled and asked, “Do you teach at Brebeuf?”
“I did for a long time. Now I’m here to keep you company,” I quipped, glad the biopsy hadn’t messed with my sense of humour.
“Then you must know Mike Venerri and some of the Maugeri boys. Everyone knows a Maugeri.”
“Of course I do,” I replied, remembering them more from staff-student floor hockey wars than from the classroom.
Indeed, it is a very small world and as Tom drove me home, I realized that I had found a very special set of Christmas lights today, the lights that shine with compassion and caring for a cancer patient like me.
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