Hosea's biopsy

Gosh, it hardly seems fair posting any health information about myself; that topic has always been Wife's monopoly. And in the end it all turned out to be pretty much of a non-event, let me say that part up front. Still, the light it sheds on the dynamics of the marriage could be interesting ....

For the past -- gosh, I guess it has been at least fifteen months, probably somewhat longer -- I have had this lump in my neck. It doesn't hurt and it's not really in the way, so I tend not to think about it. But I mentioned it during a routine physical a while ago, so my doctor gave me the name of an E.N.T. he knows and told me to have it looked at.

What with one thing and another, it took me a few months to get around to calling the other doctor, but I finally saw him Tuesday. He looked at me, and poked and prodded for a bit, and then asked if the lump was painful. No, I said, not at all. He looked some more and made a few notes, and then he took out a huge needle and said he was going to take a biopsy. Basically, he could think of several things right off the bat which might cause such a lump -- the thing is that all but one of the obvious choices ought to have been very painful. That there was no pain at all with this one suggested to him that it might be a tumor of some kind.

The story gets pretty boring from there. His office called me Wednesday afternoon to say the lab had already come back with the results and whatever-it-is looks completely benign. It might even be no more than some kind of fat deposit. Of course it is still good to keep an eye on it and all, but he doesn't need me to come back for another six months. OK fine, I can deal with that.

The interesting part, however, is that they called home before calling my cell phone. Wife answered the phone; and when the office said who they were, Wife demanded to know the test results. Now, when I was filling out the patient confidentiality paperwork, I had not checked the box allowing them to talk to her. I think I had several reasons here. One is that I was afraid they would give her some important information and she would forget it. Another -- I am reasonably sure of this one -- is that I was being a prick by doing something I knew would antagonize her. But also lurking in the back of my mind was the thought that just in case there was something terrible and ugly in the news, I wanted to manage the dissemination of the information myself. I trust myself to be a lot calmer and stabler than Wife when it comes to bad news, even if I'm the one that the bad news is about. And I had visions of her calling people -- my parents, or the boys' school, or one of her friends (if she still has any) -- and recklessly announcing "Hosea's going to die in six months!" or something else equally irresponsible. And what crazy things might she start telling the children? No, I didn't think I could risk it. Better to have her angry at me than spreading irresponsible rumors.

Anyway, as I say the office called my home first, and Wife demanded to know the test results. The poor woman making the call had to say she wasn't allowed to give out that information, and Wife got really pissy with her. In fact, when the same woman called me right afterwards, she said, "I hope I haven't gotten you in trouble at home." I told her not to worry about it.

Not five minutes later, Wife called me at work, demanding to know the results of the test and also demanding to know why I hadn't given permission for them to talk to her. "You know every little thing about my health conditions!" I suggested this was something to discuss at home. She insisted on knowing my motives; I suggested this was something to discuss at home. She insisted on knowing a few other things; I suggested ... well, you get the drift. Finally I got her off the phone.

I am trying to decide what I want to say when I actually do get home. (I am writing this Wednesday afternoon at work.) I guess it depends on just how mean I want to be. I have been thinking of saying something like, "Listen to yourself. You have known for over a year that I have this lump in my neck, but you have never once asked about it. You knew that I went to the doctor yesterday, but yesterday evening you never even mentioned it. And right now, you aren't expressing the slightest concern or fear that it might be something ugly that is going to kill me in 6 months ... no, your biggest concern is that you have been deprived of some kind of right or authority that you think you ought to have. Which is to say that your only motive for being so upset is all about you, not me. So why on earth would I let them discuss my condition with you when you so obviously don't care?"

But maybe that would count as whining and self-pity, and on the whole I'm not a big fan of either of those things. It's a conundrum.