Operation Extra Fat

You may or may not know that a few years ago bumps started to appear on my thighs. Last summer it was diagnosed as “lipoma”. This is basically fat lumps under my skin. Totally benevolent, they never turn to malignant. However there is nothing I or a doctor can do about them beside removing. Changing diet, massaging, medication, none of this can help. Furthermore once they are removed there is nothing to stop them to come back. They can appear on any part of the body, with any frequency. I consider myself lucky, that there is none on my face and in 3 years I got altogether about 10 of them. If you’re a bit squeaky don’t go on reading this entry. Yesterday 4 of them was removed. They were between 1 and 3 cm in diameter. The whole operation took 45 minutes. The assistant shaved my legs quick and dry with a disposable razor. Then the doctor marked the 4 bumps he intended to remove. By marking I mean he scratched them with a knife. I could definitely feel it, but I don’t think that at this point he cut deep enough to draw blood. Next he shot local anaesthetics around each bump. This felt like regular vaccination. Unpleasant, particularly when the liquid was going under my skin. But nothing to fret about. A few seconds later he was covering the whole area with iodine. Then covered my leg with a piece of (hopefully sterile) cloth that had a whole in it big enough for him to see the area he wants to cut open, but small enough that the other bumps were not in the picture. I didn’t feel anything as he was cutting me up. Neither when he was removing the lumps. I did feel some pressure though as he was scooping around the area to make sure that he removed everything that had to be gone. Overall however it was not unpleasant at all. Throughout the whole operation I was laying on my right side. About halfway through I felt my blood pressure drop big time. I got dizzy and couldn’t concentrate. The doctor noticed it very soon and started to worry that I would fall off the bed. I didn’t. He called in more assistants. Four rather good looking women walked in. They were medical student as I learned the conversation. At the end no physical help was needed from them, because my blood pressure turned to normal. But from this point on I enjoyed the doctor’s jokes and harmless flirting with them. For example he explained to the students that he never had this kind of problem (patient’s blood pressure dropping and than fading away) with men only with women. People of female persuasion bear pain better. 20 years ago he was doing an operation on a young man. His friend was also present. They didn’t pay much attention to the friend, so they didn’t notice for a while that he was loosing it. By the time they did the doctor didn’t have much time, just to hug the guy so he wouldn’t fall. For this the person woke up halfway and thought he was under attack. So the doctor was fighting him for a few minutes to keep him down and calm. Finally he got back to his full senses and everything was fine. But if this happened nowadays and somebody had seen it, a big article would have been born in a tabloid titled: “Doctor beats patient”. The last 10 minute of the operation was spent with sewing me up. Instead of cutting/sewing the hole one by one, he did all the cutting and removing and then went back and closed the holes one by one. Then he went through all of them and sew them again. He called this second set the “beautification”, emphasizing that it would be a good point when I want to marry. I told him that I am divorced. this comment sent him in a mock frenzy. On one hand he was hinting that he recommend plenty of eligible ladies from the hospital. On the other hand he started to philosophize. After telling me that there are much more women than men in Hungary and that men change their underwear every fortnight, while women do it every day. he asked me what I think the reason is. I babbled something about social conditioning and conforming to expectations, but he corrected me that it must be pure biology. Women need to draw and select the best possible mate for their children. Meanwhile the medical students were blushing heavily around me. The doctor, after my operation, had to examine a patient as a proctologist. he offered to the students that they can join him. They were not very keen and 3 of them rapidly left the room, quoting rather fake excuses. The fourth couldn’t do so, because she was supposed to shadow this doctor all day. Before leaving the doctor arranged that i would see him in 2 days so he would look at how my leg is healing and set the date when to take out the stitches. (Probably in a week or ten days.) I asked whether I would get any document about the operation but the answer was negative. They asked me what do I need it for, but I couldn’t properly answer at this point. I also asked whether I should use crutches, but they laughed at me. Although doing sports (and dancing) is not recommended for a while, but I can and did move fine. It occurred to ask them about the inflammation, but didn’t. I was asked later whether I have any pain relief pills at home. I had, but didn’t need to take any. I went straight home, with my Mom, who got to the hospital while I was on the table, and slept 4 hours. By the time I woke up the effect of the local anesthetic shots was gone and I felt like the holes on my leg were burning. Not very bad, but constantly. Next morning when I woke up the pain has changed to a pressure like quality. As if a 20 pound weight would be on it all the time. Bearable, but not comfortable. Also not painful enough to warrant taking a pill against it. The last thought I had before I fall asleep was a coincidental but interesting one. The operation happened on July 7. A year before that to the day my divorce became legal.