The Horror of Hick's Spouse

Hick went to a new doctor on Monday, about a growth on his left shoulder. He had one removed before, and this one has been getting larger, and is a bit painful. He had an ultrasound of it a few weeks ago, or an MRI. I can't keep up with all the constant improvements on my almost-six-million-dollar man. Anyhoo, when Hick's doctor office called about the referral, he was given a choice of three specialists. 

"I don't really care. I don't know none of them. So it don't matter. Can't you pick one? Huh. Well..." According to Hick: "I picked the one with the easiest name. Hoping that he wouldn't have an accent, and I'd be able to understand him." Which seemed to work out pretty well.

Hick came home with a stack of 4 x 4 gauze bandages, and a roll of shiny tape that's woven so you can tear it.

"He cut it off right there in the office. Says it's a fatty something, like it said on the radiology report. I have to go back in two weeks, because he said he didn't take out the sack. That it was swollen and infected, so he'd let it calm down to make sure he could get the whole thing out."

"Eww! Was it something like off of Dr. Pimple Popper? You know I can't stand that show. But when she says it looks like chicken fat? Was that it?"

"I don't know, because I didn't look at what he took out. He done it all by himself, without a nurse to help or anything. He said I can wash it and then bandage it up again. He warned me that there will be a hole. Said that I might want to sleep on a towel tonight, in case it bleeds. It don't hurt at all."

"So I'll be bandaging it for you?"

"Yeah. I cain't reach it by myself."

"Should I put triple antibiotic ointment on it?"

"I don't know."

"Didn't you ask him?"

"He didn't say. Just said to wash it and bandage it."

"Well. I guess it couldn't hurt to put some ointment on it..."

Anyhoo... Tuesday morning, Hick was ready for me to change his bandage. He had taken a bath the previous night, so didn't mess with washing his fresh shoulder hole. He sat on a kitchen stool by the cutting block. The area didn't look too bad.

"Huh. Looks like he wadded up that 4 x 4 gauze pad. It's all folded to about the size of a golf ball, and taped down with two strips of tape. Looks like it might have oozed a little. There's pinkish dried blood under the edges of the tape, but the gauze doesn't look soaked. Do you want me to rip it all at once, or pull it?"

"Just pull it. OW!"

"I'm pulling it like you said! It's really stuck. Now I have to peel the gauze off. It might be dried."

"He said there'd be a hole."

"Okay. OH! It's stuck. Here. I'm going to pull on it. Uh... uh... YUCK! It's stuffed down inside the hole! The gauze! AGHH! I'm going to be sick! It won't stop coming out! It's like he twisted a corner of the gauze, like a worm, and stuffed it down in that hole! I must have pulled out three inches! And that part isn't even bloody! He's right. There IS a hole! It's shaped like an eye! On its side. Pointy on top and bottom."

"Huh. He DID say there'd be a hole. So not to be surprised. But Dr. Pimple Popper sews up her patients."

"Well, he said he's going back in to take out the rest. So maybe that's why. She takes it all out at once."

"Yeah."

"I guess I'll fold up this gauze, and put a little ointment on it. But I'm NOT stuffing it down inside that hole!"

My handiwork looks like it survived the day. No leakage that I can see. And now I'll have a chance to do it all over again. Hopefully, the experience won't be so horrendous without pulling a long tail of gauze out of Hick's shoulder hole.