Thursday, 28 March 2019

Becoming a House Hypochondriac.

In tonight’s episode of House the good doctors were considering whether to allow a 12-year-old girl to donate one of her kidneys for a transplant. One of them asked her:

‘Do you understand the risks of living with only one kidney?’

I don’t think I need to explain why this made me sit up and pay attention. When a cancer was discovered in one of my kidneys the consultant said:

‘We’ll just take the kidney out. You don’t need two; you can function perfectly well with one. Some people are born with only one kidney.’

He said nothing about any risks (apart from the 1% risk of dying on the operating table which made me smile because I find that sort of thing amusing.) And the good doctors in New Jersey didn’t elaborate. You have to wonder, don’t you?

*  *  *

But today the spring was springing in earnest. The sun shone, the air was mild, there was no wind to speak of, the new colour in the garden glowed cheerfully, and the Harry Potter wood up the lane was looking like a fabled greenwood at last.

But walking has become an issue of late because my left leg aches badly when I do, especially going uphill. I suspect sciatica, but all the time I’m waiting for the blood to start pouring out of one orifice or another. Just about every patient in House gushes blood from one orifice or another at some point in their diagnosis. Blood coming from where blood shouldn’t come from is the show’s major leitmotif.

I don’t think I should watch House in my condition, but it kind of grabs you and won’t let you go. And maybe it’s preparing me to deal with all those good doctors the next time they feel the need to give me the benefit of their attention.

‘Will I need an LP?’ I’ll ask them.

What’s an LP?

‘A lumbar puncture, dummy. Did you sleep through med school?’

I might even attempt an American accent. I’m sure they’ll be impressed.

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