"It's really bad when I sit. Pain here," I jabbed fingers just above my right buttock, "and in my foot. Underneath, not the top." I lifted my foot and pointed to the ball and then ran my finger along the center line down to the heel. "Sometimes some numbness here, too," I added.
Dr. Smith* nodded and scribbled something on the back of a piece of paper that was in my file. He held the pen like you might hold a paint brush and made a sort of circular drawing on the page. Then he looked back up at me expectantly.
I described some more symptoms, and occasionally Dr. Smith would jot down more indecipherable marks on the back of the piece of paper. What could they mean, these strange symbols? Being a writer of English prose, I know that people who speak Latin-based languages normally scribe from top to bottom, left to right. Also, and this is perhaps more important, they tend to write
words, consisting of distinct
letters, normally taken from the alphabet.
Dr. Smith's notes radically resisted this tradition. He would scribble some symbols here on the left of the page, some over here on the right, some in the middle. Sometimes the symbols went diagonally across a portion of the page. He jotted things down the way you might write a phone number left on your voicemail, which you then go back and stare at, hoping you will somehow be able to discern what you've written. There was no obvious order; the symbol placement seemed arbitrary. I use the term "symbol" because the things he wrote couldn't really be described as "words." I suppose "hieroglyphs" might be a better label, but even that would imply some degree of semiotic structure. These might best be described as "doodles." Dr. Smith was doodling while he listened to me present!
At least that's the way it appeared to me, a mere mortal. As you may or may not know, surgeons have special powers of written expression which to the untrained eye manifest themselves as simple doodling. Perhaps they learn to write this way because writing the normal way puts undo stress on their fingers, which are, after all, the tools of their livelihood. Whatever the reason, this is truly a higher form of composition, with many rich layers of meaning. What's so impressive about surgeon doodles is that meaning seems to be conveyed not only through the shape of the drawing and the context of the drawing within the page, but from the weight of the marks on the paper. Heavier markings have different meanings than lighter ones. It's strange, impressive stuff, the scribblings of surgeons, and some day I hope to learn this higher form of expression, though I expect doing so would mean I'd also have to learn how to slice open the human body, which doesn't seem likely, or appealing.
After hearing me out, looking at my MRI films, and doing a brief physical exam which required that I do various things with my legs, Dr. Smith confirmed I had a disc bulge and that it was indeed the cause of my recent pain. He didn't think the disc was "ruptured," which is good. This is where the inner fluid actually breaks out of the hard outer shell. That isn't fun. Moreover, he advised me against surgery, at least at this point. While on one level, this was a relief, I was also a bit chagrined.
But why? you protest.
That's great news! Right, right. I know. But not exactly. There are two reasons I feel this way. One is this: I've been through all this before. It was at a different vertebrae level, but the same issue. I tried everything - for many years - because I hated the idea of surgery. (I was chicken). But finally I had no choice because of muscle weakness. It was a good success, and that issue got resolved. "Fixed." And it sort of changed my mind about the whole surgery thing. Maybe I shouldn't have resisted it so long. So, part of what's still making me feel anxious is that I think I know where this thing will ultimately end, whether it's now or in five years. And it sort of seems better to get it out of the way than to have that hanging over me.
The second reason I'm troubled over Dr. Smith's assessment has to do with football, specifically the quarterback situation in Denver. But I'll get to that tomorrow . . .
(* not his actual name)
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