Mister Surgeon

Since November, I have had a small bump in the back of my neck. My local doctor identified it as a harmless cyst.

The bump started hurting occasionally when something pressed against it. In mid-January, I went back to the doctor. She agreed to refer me to a surgery clinic.

I didn’t hear from the surgery for two months. They were supposed to call me to arrange an appointment.

I was prepared for the wait. Many had warned me that the UK National Health Service (NHS) was very good for GP services and would rally behind me in times of serious illness. However, the wait for any medical procedure between routine and emergency is interminable.

After six weeks of no news, I tried to sign up for private health insurance. Then I found out that my company had decided to provide all its UK employees with private health insurance starting in May. I thought, ‘If I don’t hear from the surgery before May, I can at least go to a private surgeon.’

A day before leaving for Germany, I got the letter. The clinic had set my appointment for the week after I came back from holiday. Perfect! Because by the time I was travelling around Germany, even the lightest touch of clothing or my necklace made me wince.

My appointment was today at 9:40 AM with Mister S. Did you know that if a doctor goes through the years of training to become a surgeon, they are honoured with the title of ‘Mister’? (read the link, it’s interesting)

He injected a local anaesthetic. The needle must have been long because it seemed to go on and on. It hurt more than any injection I’ve had. Afterwards, though, the back of my neck was completely numb.

‘Can you feel anything?’ Mister S asked. He and the nurse had already sliced into my neck.

‘Not at all,’ I said. It was very surprising. They must have been digging around back there and I couldn’t feel a thing.

I was thankful that the needle had gone as far as it had when I heard them say, ‘It keeps jiggling.’ ‘It’s tricky. I tried to take it out in one piece but it’s surprisingly deep in.’

Being numb and facing the other way, I didn’t know when the lump had been fished out and when they started stitching me back up. When it was over, I was eager to see the fruits of their labour, which had been dropped into in a small plastic bottle filled with water.

The thing responsible for my pain was white and about 1.5-2 centimetres long. I had expected it to be round but it was long, almost like a small bone. I shook the bottle and it rattled a bit. The lump must have been hard.

I’m glad it’s out of me. I have a dressing on my neck and next week will be back at the GP to get the stitches out.

The wind changed

When I left work today, it was windy. For a long moment, I was disoriented… and instinctively happy.

I worked it out; the wind was warm. I felt like I was in Melbourne.

I haven’t had warm air blown into my face for a long time. Wind in the UK and Germany makes me shrink into my coat, hunch into my scarf, pull down my furry hat.

Somehow, Melbourne wind had found its way to London.

‘How was your holiday?’

Whenever one comes back from extended leave, people always ask, ‘How was your holiday?’

On my first day of work today, I answered this question (and variations of it) about eight times. It was a challenge to give a different yet meaningful reply every time.

Usually, I started with ‘It was great’ or ‘Really good’.

Then I focused on one or two of the following.

‘Germany was cold and it snowed most of the time. I wasn’t prepared for it and didn’t have any thermals. It was fine, though, once my legs got numb.’

‘It was a real pleasure, travelling around on German trains. They’re as punctual and reliable as everyone says they are.’

‘I liked — well, ‘like’ isn’t the right word, probably ‘was fascinated by’ — learning about World War II, the Nazis, the Berlin War, the Stasi, Jewish persecution… I feel a bit bad that I didn’t know much at all about this history. I don’t remember when the Berlin Wall fell. I wish I did. It would have been… very emotional, I think.’

‘My favourite thing was being able to eat lots of fast food because it was a ‘cultural experience’. I ate Belgian chocolate and waffles, potato fries, currywurst, brotwurst, kebabs and boreks.’

‘They have really good bread in Germany. For kebabs, bread isn’t just something to hold the food together. The bread itself was really tasty.’

‘I liked visiting the castle at Nuremburg. I didn’t get to visit the Disney castle in the Black Forest, though. I’ll have to go back one day to see it.’

‘There were many grand old buildings in Germany. But after a while, I found out that lots of these ‘grand old buildings’ are actually recreated to look like ones that were bombed in the war. It was Disneyland.’

‘We stayed in hostels. I think that I’m getting to that stage, though, where I don’t really want to do the hostel thing. We had some good ones, which I can recommend, but there were one or two that I didn’t feel comfortable in. Cleanliness, it wasn’t always there.’

‘The trip was about history, architecture and food. After two weeks, it did become a bit of a blur — “Oh, another old building, another chocolate shop.” I’m looking forward to a holiday that’s more about mountain views, clouds and moonrises.’

Back in from the cold

It was very cold for most of the two weeks we were in Germany. No one warned us that it could snow in March. March should be the start of spring and last year, there were record high temperatures. I guess the Germans were taken by surprise as much as we were!

Coming into the St Pancras Eurostar terminal yesterday, London felt balmy in comparison. It was sunny, almost warm, as I went about the neighbourhood today to restock my bare pantry cupboard.

Tomorrow, I’m back at work. Two weeks ago, I left team mates with three big reports to finish off. I hope there weren’t any hitches!

I feel newly inspired to improve myself. I think that being on holiday gave me time to think about what I have achieved so far, and what I want to do next. I haven’t made a formal resolutions list or wish list. I just have a vague notion of wanting to be ‘better’. Perhaps I will start by slowing down so that I can think more before speaking or making a decision.

The train platform in Dresden.

Travelling from Leipzig to Nuremburg.

Someone who must be quite cold in Bonn.

Damjan and I are Aussie battlers, tough as nails. We eat ice-cream even when it’s snowing. This photo shows me eating delicious mango and macadamia ice-cream from a European gourmet food chain called ‘Australian Homemade‘. Weird, eh?

Lessons from Germany

I have discovered an unexpected benefit of having visited Germany. I now have a greater understanding of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, which is on TV at this moment i.e. the Nazi book burning rally, Adolph Hitler signing Indiana’s book when he assumes it’s Mein Kampf…

In Germany

I’m in Berlin now. Mo and Ulli are hosting us. I met Mo in a delightfully random way at Cambridge and am reaping the rewards of my willingness to talk to strangers on a whim.

I will be travelling around Germany by train for the next two weeks. I will post photos and stories eventually. I already have one — Damjan and I got on an overnight train in Brussels and nearly had to leave because I had bought tickets for the wrong date! I was horrified. It could have been a disaster. I’ll let you know how it turned out in a future blog entry.

Somehow you get there

Chris, my workmate, is cycling from London to Paris for charity.

He told us, ‘The ride take three days and covers 234 miles — and I’ll be trying to do it on my single speed. No gears!’

‘Wow, Chris,’ we marvel.

‘I might have taken on more that I can handle,’ he admitted. ‘Especially on the last day, when I have to do 85 miles.’

I nodded. ‘I remember one time that I bit off more than I could chew. I had just learned to ski and found a nice flat blue run. I soon found out it was steep, too steep for baby Joan skiier. But it was too late. I was now on the slope. I spent the whole time falling and crying, falling and crying, falling and crying, all the way to the bottom.’

I made a sad face.

‘So don’t worry, Chris. Once you start, you’ll get to Paris, one way or another.’

‘Thanks, Joan.’

Unfinished business

Last week, I lamented not getting around to cooking ‘Greek salad, stuffed peppers, Mapo tofu or sausages in chilli tomato sauce’.

This week, I managed to make:

  • Greek salad
  • Mapo tofu with turkey mince, capsicum and mushroom, topped up with passata (sieved tomatoes)
  • Stir-fried broccoli and green capsicum with oyster sauce
  • Sausages and omlette of mushrooms, red capsicum and parsley

I’ve also insured myself against the risk of not having any food to eat. In the freezer, I have spinach curried rice, sausages, and pork dumplings. It’s a nice change from not having a freezer (and microwave) last year.

Extreme eye-contact

There are rules. In the Underground, it is not proper to make eye contact with people you don’t know. I use my ‘staring into space’ skills, honed after a few years of using Melbourne public transport.

Imagine my perturbation when one Monday night, while going down the stairs to my Tube platform, the man walking beside me turned around and made eye contact.

Eye contact is sometimes accidental. Despite our best efforts, accidents do happen. When they do, the correct response is to dart your eyes away. On this night, though, my fellow commuter held my gaze. I think he even smiled! I was forced to blink and gaze past him, then look the other way (a la ‘I was looking in your direction but not focusing on you specifically and now I’m going to naturally and without any concern swing my head to look elsewhere’).

When we reached the platform, I think he tried to re-engage eye contact. I shuffled quickly down the platform and lost him in the crowd.