book excerpt: Forever Sweet Sixteen (Part III of III)
Read these first:
book excerpt: Forever Sweet Sixteen (Part I of III)
book excerpt: Forever Sweet Sixteen (Part II of III)
book excerpt: Forever Sweet Sixteen (Part I of III)
book excerpt: Forever Sweet Sixteen (Part II of III)
Monday, September 18, 2000
My parents and I drove to Washington Hospital Center early in the morning. I had an appointment to see Dr. M&M, and also to be the recipient of a needle biopsy. Washington Hospital Center, plain and simple, is in the ghetto. As I sat in the back of my dad’s 1996 Chevrolet Astro Minivan, or what I like to call the Big Red Box, I couldn’t help but notice the men sitting idle on their doorsteps. It reminded me of the movie Friday.
Dr. M&M is a famous surgeon who was one of the first to do limb sparing operations for tumors. My grandma even saw him giving an interview on TV right before I met with him. “I really like this guy,” she said.
After an extremely long wait, he opened the door to my room with a slew of doctors. “Hello Benjamin. Hello Mr. and Mrs. Rubenstein. I’m Dr. M&M, and these are some of my colleagues.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” his right-hand man, Dr. Phil, said.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Brian Mitchell?” I asked Dr. Phil.
“Who’s Brian Mitchell?”
“He used to return kicks for the Washington Redskins.”
“Oh, I don’t have time to watch sports.”
“Well, you’ve probably seen him in the newspaper.”
“I don’t have time to read the newspaper,” he said jokingly.
“So, I looked at all your scans,” Dr. M&M interrupted, “And you definitely have a tumor growing in your left iliac crest, which is the top part of your hip bone. It’s probably about eight inches long.”
“Eight inches, really?”
“Just think of how big your pelvis is. Your tumor was probably growing for a good six months before you felt anything. Now tell me about the pain you’ve been having.”
I told him all about my pain, from when it started. I told him how it had been getting worse, and now was at the point where I felt pain every step I took. I told him that sometimes it even hurt in a resting position. He pushed around my lower back for a few minutes and drew a dot showing where he wanted the needle to be inserted. He also gave me specific instructions not to run or jump any more since the tumor weakened my hip. When he was done, he sent me back to the large waiting area until they were ready to do my biopsy.
Dr. M&M is fairly old, with white hair and a white mustache. He always wears a suit and walks as if he has the biggest dick in the world. He never smiles, but he has a quality that always makes me feel good – I think it’s his confidence, which seeps out of his pores and into his patients. It isn’t that he thinks he’s the shit; he knows he’s the shit. He never visits patients by himself, but always with a few other doctors. Most of these “students” don’t speak to the patients, but simply stand there and learn the tools of the trade from their teacher. Dr. Phil learned those tools exceptionally well. He was born in Ethiopia, but you’d never know it from his perfect English.
Monday was the start to my seemingly never-ending supply of long waits to see doctors. Luckily for me, I’ve always been patient, so this was never a problem. I waited nearly an hour until they finally called my name and took me back to another room. When I got into the room, they started me on an IV and gave me a ridiculous amount of Valium, which then made me extremely happy. The man performing the procedure and I had a nice little chat. “Okay Ben, I need to push through your bone, so you may hear the hammer. You might feel it, too. Let me know if it hurts.”
I couldn’t feel a damn thing other than pressure. I began to laugh and said, “Yeah, I can hear the hammer grinding into my bone. That’s funny. Hey man, are you hungry?”
“Yeah, I’m getting pretty hungry,” he replied.
“Good, because I’m starving. When we’re done, you and I are going to McDonald’s, my treat.”
“Hey, that sounds good to me.”
The biopsy guy could have chopped off my toe and I would’ve found it hysterical. Sly came over to my house when I got home that afternoon. “Dude, you look so high right now,” he said, seeing that the Valium hadn’t quite worn off.
Dr. M&M is a famous surgeon who was one of the first to do limb sparing operations for tumors. My grandma even saw him giving an interview on TV right before I met with him. “I really like this guy,” she said.
After an extremely long wait, he opened the door to my room with a slew of doctors. “Hello Benjamin. Hello Mr. and Mrs. Rubenstein. I’m Dr. M&M, and these are some of my colleagues.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” his right-hand man, Dr. Phil, said.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Brian Mitchell?” I asked Dr. Phil.
“Who’s Brian Mitchell?”
“He used to return kicks for the Washington Redskins.”
“Oh, I don’t have time to watch sports.”
“Well, you’ve probably seen him in the newspaper.”
“I don’t have time to read the newspaper,” he said jokingly.
“So, I looked at all your scans,” Dr. M&M interrupted, “And you definitely have a tumor growing in your left iliac crest, which is the top part of your hip bone. It’s probably about eight inches long.”
“Eight inches, really?”
“Just think of how big your pelvis is. Your tumor was probably growing for a good six months before you felt anything. Now tell me about the pain you’ve been having.”
I told him all about my pain, from when it started. I told him how it had been getting worse, and now was at the point where I felt pain every step I took. I told him that sometimes it even hurt in a resting position. He pushed around my lower back for a few minutes and drew a dot showing where he wanted the needle to be inserted. He also gave me specific instructions not to run or jump any more since the tumor weakened my hip. When he was done, he sent me back to the large waiting area until they were ready to do my biopsy.
Dr. M&M is fairly old, with white hair and a white mustache. He always wears a suit and walks as if he has the biggest dick in the world. He never smiles, but he has a quality that always makes me feel good – I think it’s his confidence, which seeps out of his pores and into his patients. It isn’t that he thinks he’s the shit; he knows he’s the shit. He never visits patients by himself, but always with a few other doctors. Most of these “students” don’t speak to the patients, but simply stand there and learn the tools of the trade from their teacher. Dr. Phil learned those tools exceptionally well. He was born in Ethiopia, but you’d never know it from his perfect English.
Monday was the start to my seemingly never-ending supply of long waits to see doctors. Luckily for me, I’ve always been patient, so this was never a problem. I waited nearly an hour until they finally called my name and took me back to another room. When I got into the room, they started me on an IV and gave me a ridiculous amount of Valium, which then made me extremely happy. The man performing the procedure and I had a nice little chat. “Okay Ben, I need to push through your bone, so you may hear the hammer. You might feel it, too. Let me know if it hurts.”
I couldn’t feel a damn thing other than pressure. I began to laugh and said, “Yeah, I can hear the hammer grinding into my bone. That’s funny. Hey man, are you hungry?”
“Yeah, I’m getting pretty hungry,” he replied.
“Good, because I’m starving. When we’re done, you and I are going to McDonald’s, my treat.”
“Hey, that sounds good to me.”
The biopsy guy could have chopped off my toe and I would’ve found it hysterical. Sly came over to my house when I got home that afternoon. “Dude, you look so high right now,” he said, seeing that the Valium hadn’t quite worn off.