May 9th – Brad had a little procedure this week. No, it wasn’t the snip-snip as many have asked.  He was having what we thought was an inflamed lymph node removed.  It was a handy little outpatient procedure where they put Brad in a twilight sleep (I should be so lucky) and zip, they take it out.  I’m in the waiting room monitoring Brad on this giant plasma screen where his little patient ID number dances from the prep column to the surgery column to the post-op column in record time.  In the meantime, the surgeon comes in and tells me “Good news!  It wasn’t a lymph node after all, it was a fatty cyst! 

 

Silence.

 

Eeeewwwww is all I can say. Are there two uglier words in the English language than “fatty” and “cyst,” I ask?  Then pair them together for a double-whammy of an ick-out word.  The only thing worse would be if it was a “fatty cyst mole” or “fatty cyst pimple” or…well, you get the drift.  Anyway, I physically recoiled when he said it and then I asked “You mean a… (gulp)… fatty cyst is a good thing?”  It was hard to even get the words out, they got jumbled up in my mouth like marbles.  “Yeah, fatty cysts are better than swollen lymph nodes.” Apparently, this is a well-known fact.  When I shared the diagnosis with friends, they were in the know on, um…fatty cysts.  “Yeah, I get fatty cysts all the time,” one said.  “Oh, my husband has one, haven’t you seen it?” another said.  Well, there you have it.

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