— पांच हजार नौ सौ अठारह —
Yesterday I had the first non-oral surgery of my life. It was a minor surgery, but a word like "minor" in the context of "surgery" is relative: it was a bit more difficult and took longer than expected, and in the end I wound up with no fewer than seven—it might even have been eight—local anesthetic injections. No one told me those shots fucking hurt. It seems a little counterintuitive, no? Sure, it numbs the area—but it has to fucking hurt first!
Before 2023, Shobhit had never had any surgeries either. But in that calendar year, he had a colonoscopy, an
appendectomy,
and a surgery on his wrist. He noted yesterday that he was put under for all three of those procedures. I have no idea whether that was even an option for yesterday's procedure on my back, but no one told me it was. I never thought to ask. I can tell you this much: if I ever feel a bump in my skin again, I am saying something about it to my doctor
way sooner than I did with this one—and certainly moving toward getting the procedure done a lot earlier than I finally made the decision with this.
I waited longer than I should have with this, which is almost certainly why the procedure took as long as it did. The bump definitely grew over time, and had I had the procedure done earlier, it probably would have been easier. Dr. Wancata told me at the beginning of our time there that I would be on the cot for about half an hour, and I think all told it took them maybe forty minutes. At one point Dr. Wancata actually said, "This is
not little!"
I think in the end they said the cyst measured about 3 by 4 centimeters, with a depth of about 2. Converted to inches, that would be aroubd 1.2" x 1.6" x 0.8." Actually pretty big for a chunk of something getting cut out of the flesh of your back. As you can see by the sewn-up incision in the photo above, it kind of looks like I got stabbed in the back. I was fascinated to hear that they closed the skin
over the stitches first put in there, which are made from a material that will eventually dissolve
under the skin. Medical science is amazing. Why can't they develop a local anesthetic injection that doesn't hurt?
Dr. Wancata also said that because of how deep they had to go, there may be some bruising. Shobhit took a couple photos of my back and when I saw the photo, I asked if that was bruising already happening. Dr. Wancata said the purple stuff was actually just the skin glue they used to close up the incision over the stitches.
I haven't mentioned yet that there was another doctor in residence there, a young woman whose name I can't remember. The two doctors very much worked as a team on the procedure, although the young one did most of the work I think, largely guided by Dr. Wancata. I asked Wancata if she had any clue how many times she's done this procedure, and she said, "Oh, no. A lot." We did learn that the young doctor has to perform 850 procedures (all sorts, not just this particular one) before she can graduate. Shobhit asked how many she's done so far, and she estimated somewhere around 350. I guess I'm glad I wasn't anyone's first time.
Shobhit was in the room with us the whole time. The funniest moment was when Dr. Wancata was referring to the cyst as my "friend," and she said something like, "Your friend just doesn't want to go!" Shobhit misinterpreted and said, "I'm his husband." Ha! She had to clarify what she was talking about. She referred to the cyst as my "friend" muliple times, as though it had an emotional attachment to me in addition to a physical one.
I had real ambivalence about Shobhit's presence at first, but in the end I was really glad he was there. He worries enough for an army of worriers, which is annoying, but he also knew I may need comforting and reassurance. I did not actually much expect to need it, but in the end I did. I had to endure so many of those fucking local anesthetic shots, and I kind of freaked out every time, that at one point I even had tears in my eyes. Nobody saw that, because there was a sort of towel draped over the back of my head. I was laying on my stomach on the cot, and multiple times I would start to feel slight pain from the cutting they were doing—this was why the extra local anesthetic injections. I couldn't tell you if my reaction was truly proportionate to the amount of pain, because I was already incredibly tense and jumpy if I felt anything. But every time, either the doctor, or later Shobhit, would tell me to take slow and deep breaths, because I would start anxiously heavy breathing. Shobhit spent a fair amount of time either holding one or both of my hands (I was asked to put my arms down on my sides, to help make my back as flat as possible), or sometimes putting his hand on the back of my lower leg.
Shobhit was pretty exasperating when we first arrived, because we are supposed to check in on the first floor, and he basically insisted we go straight to the sixth, so that they wouldn't even have the chance to ask me to pay the copay. We've exhusted our FSA account for 2025 already, and I'm totally on board with waiting to pay until we can use the 2026 account. But, I also knew we're supposed to check in downstairs regardless, and of course the woman who checked us in on the fourth floor said so. In fact, she said she was only able to check us in there because she's "a floater" and had it been someone else, they would have had to send us back downstairs again.
To Shobhit, the end justifies the means, and so even when the woman was kind of playfully admonishing him when I said I only didn't check in downstairs because he told me not to, Shobhit just acted play-bashful with a demeanor like "I'm so bad, haha!"—I was just thinking,
Fuck. You. I get so tired of his micromanaging bullshit.
— पांच हजार नौ सौ अठारह —
— पांच हजार नौ सौ अठारह —
Shobhit had met at my office at 3:05, waiting for me over inside the neighboring PCC Corner Market store. We walked together to Virinia Mason, cutting through Freeway Park and its small group of open-air drug users. Lovely fall colors in there otherwise! Shobhit was still asking questions about insurance coverage when we were brought back to the operating room in the clinic, and to the staff's credit they did try to find an answer, but again they were unable to. Once Dr. Wancata came in, she said that in almost every case in her experience, insurance covers the procedure, especially if she's noted that the problem was symptomatic (as in, having pain—which I did). She also said after the extraction that it had been infected, which she would add to the notes for insurance and should help justify full coverage.
Dr. Wancata was very gracious about it. "He worries about
everything," I said, and Dr. Wancata was like, "We need people to worry about things for us, right?" or something to that effect. I'm sure Shobhit felt validated.
I took my shirt off, lay face down on the cot, with my face slightly over the top edge for comfort, and they put the sheets on my back and over my head, probably to the sides of the cyst area too—all to localize the spot for surgery, I presume. Things finally got going and Shobhit finally stopped with his incessant pestering, shifting then into comforting mode. There was an electric pad of some sort put on my lower back which was very cold; I think it had to do with the electric cauterizing tool they used later, which resulted in the distinct smell of burning flesh in the room. When they numbed the area, that was started with four local anesthetic injections, all around the site. The other three or four that came later were further into the procedure when I would start feeling things.
Most of the time, though, I just felt pressure, and notably tugging. Sometimes I could hear, or to a degree feel just through pressure, them slicing or sawing through things. They spent so much time and went to so many different spots on the site of the cyst that I wondered if they were just removing it piece by piece. But, nope: they removed the cyst mostly intact. I actually did look at the thing on the tray when I was finally able to sit up, and yes, I even took a couple pictures of it. I spared you from embedding
those photos in this post, but should you be interested, you can see them
here.
Once they were near the end, they seemed to find small bits still left behind that they should still get rid of, which I think was mostly what they used the cauterizing tool for. I don't know for sure; I didn't see it. Dr. Wancata asked if I wanted them to explain everything that they were doing, and I was kind of like: maybe not.
Shobhit watched the entire thing, though. A couple of times he said a low "Wow," which I could have lived without. I noted later that I could never have done the same if our positions were reversed. I'd have passed out as soon as skin was getting sliced. I handled the sight of the removed cyst afterward surprisingly well, though, although I was kind of struck by how much it looked like a scene out of an
Alien movie. Just more in miniature, I suppose. What would be a comp for those dimensions, anyway? A jawbreaker, maybe?
I've been mostly okay since. Shobhit was worried the anesthetic would make me woozy and cause difficulty walking home, but that wasn't how it worked. We walked home together, and he wore my backpack for me. I wore it walking to work this morning and was totally fine, especially considering it sits on my back in a way that the upper portion is actually lifted from my back somewhat.
I did start to feel sore enough later last night to take some Aleve, but haven't needed any since. Shobhit did ask at the end of the procedure if I wanted to get a treat, which was an interesting mix of condescending and sweet. Dr. Wancata was like, "I want a treat! Can I go?" When we got home, I had leftover pasta for dinner while we watched the last three episodes of
The Sandman, which we really enjoyed. After the first episode was done, I did make us both hot chocolate.
We were home shortly after 5:00, and the appointment had been at 3:30. We spent the rest of the evening watching TV. After we finished
The Sandman, we fired up the first episode of
The Beast in Me, also on Netflix, with Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys. I thought it had great dialogue writing; it's way too soon to judge the plot. But we definitely want to watch more. I needed to go to bed, though.
There's been a large bandage on my upper back since the procedure, and still is as I write this. Sleeping was only slightly uncomfortable. I chose not to take it off for my shower today at least. The doctor said it should be fine going forward, there's no risk of it tearing open or anything. Nevertheless, I skipped my alternating days of streches (yesterday) and push-ups (today) just in an abundance of caution. I'm feeling some soreness again now, though; I may take another Aleve here soon.
The doctor had no expectation that the cyst was anything but benign, but I guess they test anything they take out of the body as a matter of course. Once they get results back she'll call to ask how it's doing and let me know the results. But unless I get sudden pain or pus or something which would otherwise necessitate it, there's no expectation of me having to go in again, at least not related to this cyst.
I'm just glad it's out. Had I known what truly what was in store with this procedure, I'd have been way more freaked out going in. Dr. Wancata commented more than once on how nuch easier other cysts have "popped out" for her but this one was really holding on, which only solidifies my resolve that if I ever feel another bump of any kind I will do something about it immediately. I presume this proecudure would have been easier when the bump was, say, a quarter or even half the size. It was definitely much smaller when I first noticed it. But, when I showed it to Dr. Means, he said that if it wasn't bothering me then I would probably be fine leaving it alone. But then, it did start bothering me.
Let's just hope it doesn't happen again. I told both Brandy and Cathryn at work this morning, in separate conversations, about this. I told both of them that I have never experienced anything that made me feel so old. Brandy said she learned recently that even babies can get cysts, so maybe I can feel young again. Ha! Well, it still feels like something that happens more to aging people than to babies. I don't have official stats on hand, admittedly.
— पांच हजार नौ सौ अठारह —
[posted 12:40pm]
