In approximately ten hours a doctor is going to look at my head and – hopefully – book me in for lumpectomy.
I’ve had this lump for around six years now and have tried to get it seen to before but to no avail.
When we lived in Wales I went to see my doctor and he said “well I don’t know what it is so we’ll refer you to a consultant.”
‘Excellent’ I thought until three weeks later when a letter arrived.
Dear Mr. Landers,
Re: Referral from Dr. Will. C. Younow.
Having read Dr. Will. C. Younow’s referral I have decided that any work I carry out on the growth on your head will be purely cosmetic. With this in mind no consultation will take place and I’m not even going to look at it and give you an official diagnosis that it’s not a tumour or anything like that.
Please continue to worry about it growing and let me know if it causes you any pain or explodes.
Kind regards,
Mr. Misternotdoctor.
I told the doctor about the letter and he said he’d fight my corner. He rang me a week later to say he’d hand his wrists slapped for interfering and daring to question a man who is now so powerful and clever that he no longer has to use the title doctor! He said just to keep an eye on it – difficult unless I was a reptile but if I was a reptile the lump would be where one of my eyes should be! – and get in touch if it grew or caused me concern.
Well it grew. It went from the size a small pea stuck under my skin to a golf ball trying to break out the golf bag and enjoy eighteen holes. It didn’t concern me, wasn’t painful, was solid and even when stabbed with a needle it didn’t give anything out so I ignored it.
Last year I noticed it had got even bigger. So much so that I started to call it Brian and introduce it as my second head or congenital twin that I’d partially absorbed during my time in the womb. I was tempted to stick false eye lashes to it and tell people it was my third eye, it was just closed.
Doing some research about the Irish medical system – as we’d moved to Galway by this point – I found out it was going to cost in the region of €2500 to have it removed as they would probably consider it cosmetic as well. My research involved asking various people at work – nurses, doctors and clinical psychologist, house-keepers – none of whom would or could tell me what it was.
I was head-butted by one of the service users at work and saw this as the ideal opportunity to ask what it was while in the emergency department.
“It’s abnormal muscle growth,” said an american doctor who I’d seen before and had spent most of that time comparing our Jewish backgrounds with.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Well it won’t hurt but it doesn’t look nice. You should have it removed though.”
Again I was back to the €2500 and there was no way we could afford that – or that I’d be willing to pay it!
So the plan was hatched to create a lie and get some of grossly overpaid UK National Insurance back by registering with the doctor my parents use.
I registered my interest to join the practice in December 2009 and in the following March I went to see Dr. Cutebutfrenchandold.
“Well I’m not sure what it iz but it should come off oui?” he said
“I’ve been told it’s abnormal muscle growth.”
“Oui, it could be but it iz safer to get it removed oui?”
“Oui. I mean yes!”
He explained how the bigger it got the quicker it would grow basically insinuating that it would double in size every year or so. At it’s current rate of growth I’d be tilting my head to the right in six months due to the extra weight.
Dr Cutebutfrenchandold gave me a referral to a consultant who has graciously agreed to see me.
This is happening in approximately ten hours.
In my head I’m convinced he’s going to freeze it there and then and just slice it off. Brian is convinced of his demise as well and as such is growing even quicker and causing me a wondrous headache!
So I’m sat at Dublin Airport with a coffee that tastes like road scrapers mixed with urinal cake, waiting to board my flight to the UK where on arrival I will be arrested for defrauding the national health system and end up in prison. In prison they’ll be concerned about my welfare and will remove Brian for me. Either than or my cell mate Crusher Jones will do it with his makeshift knife while ass-raping me nightly.
I always look on the bright side don’t you think?
EDIT: As some of you may know the appointment never went ahead thanks to the volcanic ash from Iceland cancelling all UK outbound flights from Dublin – and eventually the whole of Ireland and then all of the UK!
Flights and hospital appointments have been rebooked and I’ll keep you informed.
