Friday, June 18, 2010

Revelation of My Mortality

Okay, the title is a little heavy. And what I have to say is kind of gross. You've be warned, so press on or bounce:

Thursday I went to the Exit-Entry bureau yet again to drop off a stack of papers the hr girl put together. I took a number. There were 115 people ahead of me. So I took a seat and grooved through a country playlist on my iPod that has no place in Pudong.

I began thumbing through the stack of papers and noticed my health check results were part of the package. I still hadn't looked at them and it seemed like a perfect time to have a peeksy. The first few pages were all very boring "negative, negative, negative..." but then I got to the utlrasound results: Gall bladder polyp. Eew. Here I am a slip of a girl, in the prime of my youth, and they're telling me I have something that sounds grotesque growing inside me  -  like a mushroom on a goo sack. Or how about that one part in Alien...

There were still 80 people in front of me in line, and no internet signal for my iTouch. So I fire off a text to someone at work, "Gall bladder polyp. WebMD that shit, I'm freaked."

He writes back: Wikipedia says they're usually benign. How big is it?

"I don't know. Now look up scoliosis."

Because by this point of moved on to x-ray results. And yeah, I have that too.

He responds: "That just means your back is fucked up."


It's a one-two punch. One moment you think you're perfectly healthy. Then the next you learn you're carrying a cancerous alien baby with a janky spine. Weak!

I dropped off the papers, and headed back to work, unsure how they expected me to continue in my condition. Through my own wikipedia search I learned that such polyps are usually found in people over 50 and are more common in men. Great. I have my dad's internal organs.

At home, I emailed my uncle (the doctor), asking whether or not I should get another ultrasound and how soon he can fix me up with a handicapped parking permit now that I have a curvy spine. If I'm guaranteed a parking space up front everywhere I go, I just might head home. Hell, I might even move back to LA: "I've got a golden ticket..."

Oh, the possibilities.

In other news: I watched USA vs. Slovenia last night. That ref must hate freedom. 

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