Not Applicable

The hospital I’d only heard of as a point of departure. I knew of three people who went in and didn’t come out. Or came out in a box. Once is a black mark.

I’m not superstitious, touch wood, but I’d only gone to the doctor’s for a handful of antibiotics. The second opinion he wanted from the chest surgeon at the ER was quickly spiraling out of control. The first nurse asked if I had a living will. Another asked if anyone had the power to make medical decisions on my behalf.

I’m put into a room adjacent to one in which, according to a plaque on the door, Doctor H. did in September, 2007. Doctor H. happened to be my doctor, until recently. He had retired not long before September, 2007. I thought he’d be fishing up in Michigan.

There were further x-rays. A few more and I’ll be reading in the dark.

It was likely that a thoracentesis was all that would be required. I expressed relief and looked it up when the doctor left. Basically, it’s a pleural tap. I looked up pleural tap. Basically, that’s a thoracentesis. This isn’t helpful except to say to the doctor next time he mentions thoracentesis that that’s basically just a pleural tap, right?

The thoracentesis went well (as did the pleural tap). Omens dissipated. The nicotine patch came off within the hour, but not in front of the nurses. I should have waited until the lung had reinflated, but, what the hell … There was the pleasure of one month sober and filling out forms asking if (and if so how much) you drink, and confidently writing “No” and “Not Applicable,” just like that, capital letters and all.

Touch wood.