We’re talking hot, here.  It may be frosty outside, but inside it’s more than warm, it’s ready to burst into flames at any moment.

We’re talking knife-edge, hair-trigger, this could go up at any time.

We’re talking, of course, about my perforated bowel.

Thursday’s CAT scan and Friday’s reading of it showed only slight improvement.  After four weeks, my stubborn perf has basically not budged.  The doctor did use the term “smoldering”.  And since it is serious, he wants to go in and look around.  He’s not just looking, of course.  He wants to come out with a souvenir.

From my perspective, I’d prefer him to do it with laparoscopy, but he is interested in getting in deep and taking a good look, holding onto the bad thing with his hand, giving it the old human touch (through plastic gloves, of course).  I’m getting a second opinion early next week, and I don’t really expect anything different from the second doc.  I just want another set of eyes on the tests before my belly gets bisected.

So I’m a little bothered, occasionally a little depressed, and through it all God is good.  I’m not in pain (which might make the decision a lot easier), and in the whole scheme of things, being down for a few weeks is not the worst outcome in the world.

And afterward, I’ll be able to tell Bettie cool stories about why I have such a scar.  “I was skin diving off Palau when this razor shark – and don’t stop me if you’ve heard this one before . . .”

pic from SearchNetMedia

Advertisements