This morning, I had a giant cell tumor removed from my wrist.  It’s a noncancerous growth of larger-than-normal cells.  It looked like I had inserted a marble under my skin, and I could tell that it was growing over the past few months.  It was getting big enough to become irritated when I repeatedly bumped my wrist on flat surfaces, so it was time to get rid of it.

Before the surgery, the prep nurse asked if I had any questions.  I asked how long I have to wait to put pressure on my wrist and to return to Pilates.  (Answer:  Two weeks for pressure;  OK for Pilates as long as I don’t do any moves that put stress on my wrist.)

This was an outpatient procedure, so the “rooms” were divided by curtains like an emergency room.  That meant I could hear other patients’ conversations.  When asked if he had any questions before his procedure, the man on the other side of my curtain said, “Just one.  When can I drink alcohol?”  (Answer:  Not while you’re taking pain medication.)  Obviously, his priorities are different from mine.