NO intestinal segments

One of the problems with the internet is that we can't always catch tones, irony, subtleties, or facial expressions.

So.... I'm glad we're still friends....

It would be a boring world indeed if every middle-aged, impotent, incontinent man agreed on everything!
(I really don't need to add a smiley face after this, do I?)

I am grateful to my Doctor and staff and have thanked them for their efforts of helping and dealing with the likes of me.
you need to take my tactless irreverance with a grain of salt and a splash of humor. I say horrible mean things to my dog in my doggie voice but that doesn't meen I don't love him. I call my Dad and his freinds Shrinks sometimes even to their face buut once again That doesn't meen I don't love an respect them. I call all surgeons Butchers and yes there was some vehemence when I wrote it. But I have processed enough deer and game to know an adept butcher would have made a fine surgeon. My Dad once wanted to give me stitches and I ask when was the last time he gave anyone stitches? Was it back in med school and was the patient alive or a cadaver. When he gave the answer I expected I yelled for Mom she at least sews regularly and fixed me right up.

I'm broadly with Zachary on this one. I couldn't have had my cystectomy thinking of my surgeon as the enemy. No way. But I kind of understand where Pat is coming from and understand JRs anger. It's a tough situation and I am guilty of blaming docs and mistrusting them at times. Sometimes when you are in the middle of it all it's hard to see the situation for what it really is. I think and hope your anger is at the situation you're in and not the people who are trying to help. And I hope you have a great summer too Zachary and everyone else in the Northern Hemisphere!

Tim

As I'm writing this, and between posts, I'm doing some gardening today. Planting seeds. Tomatoes, peppers, beans, and cucumbers.

I fully expect them to flourish and to feed me and my wife all summer long. Frankly, it would never occur to me to think the farmers who grew the seeds or the company that packaged them or the garden-supply store where we bought them were thieves, or incompetent or had malicious intent. I can understand fear and apprehension--I had both of them myself. But I never once thought that those whom I chose to work on me had anything but the highest regard for my safety and my life. Or I wouldn't have gone to them in the first place.

As it turns out, I'm going back to USC for more surgery on March 23rd. Two weeks from now. And I'm pretty confident that when I return home I'll be in a better situation than when I arrived, my longevity and quality of life will be improved (over not going at all), and that the tomatoes, peppers, beans, and cucumbers will be starting to sprout.

I'm planning to have the best summer possible. I hope you are as well.

Patricia,
When all is said and done, words do have meaning. They can heal, they can harm, they're how we communicate both to others and to ourselves.

If you honestly think that referring to those who are working like hell to save your life as "killers" and "butchers" is either helpful or healing, then I guess I respectfully disagree. No one is forcing us to have any kind of treatment or surgery; we always have a choice. If not in every aspect of our treatment, at least in our attitude toward it.

I'd rather have an attitude of positive expectation and gratitude. Vitamins for the mind, so to speak. But if that's not a concept that works for you, I hope you have one that does.

I do know that if I thought of my surgeon as a butcher before I even had surgery, I'd probably get a fourth and fifth opinion.

That's quite a strong statement about a team that will be working hard to save your life.

I couldn't be more grateful to my surgeons.