I know, the title is a bit misleading as this is actually the continuation about the little alien under the skin of my wrist, also known as ganglion.
So, it was all about the ganglion that needed treatment, and so, after some trial and tribulations (see the first part of this story earlier on), I managed to see a nurse to look at it and make recommendations how to proceed.
Well, she looked at it, ever so gently squeezed it and said that there were three possibilities:
a) Leave it be as sometimes it vanishes by itself
b) Stick a syringe into it and squeeze the ganglion out and
c) Take a scalpel and cut it open.
Ah!
Not the one for any unnecessary blood and gore, I tentatively asked how long one would have to wait to determine if the ganglion would go by itself.
Shaking her head, murmuring something about "fear" and "hospitals" in my direction, she completely ignored my question and booked me an appointment with a consultant in the nearby City Hospital.
Hm, thanks.
A few days later a letter arrived confirming the appointment a few weeks later.
So the waiting began.
A week before the appointment, a letter arrived informing me apologetically that my appointment had to be cancelled and I would be informed about the new appointment.
So the waiting continued.
A few days later another letter arrived telling me the time for the new appointment - a week after the original one.
And I still waited.
2 days before the new appointment, a letter arrived informing me apologetically that my appointment had to be cancelled and I would be informed about the new appointment.
Ah, a case of deja vu.
A day later another letter arrived, telling me the time for the new appointment - in the afternoon rather than the morning.
Ok, no problem.
And yes, finally, finally a qualified doctor was looking at the ganglion, repeating the three options the nurse had already pointed out, and as with the nurse my initial enquiry was somewhat ignored and he stood up getting the equipment, after rhetorically asking if I would mind the "syringe" solution.
"Will it hurt?"
"Well, it is a syringe, so it will feel like a syringe going into the skin."
Is that a yes or a no?
And out came the syringe, the ganglion was disinfected, the syringe went in (yes, and it did hurt) and the doctor tried to suck the ganglion matter, a fairly transparent gelatinous mass, into the syringe. But whether the syringe was too small or the ganglion too solid, but not much came out.
Then, after pulling the syringe out, he squeezed the ganglion like a big pimple and low and behold he managed to push the gelatinous stuff through the hole the syringe had made.
Not the nicest view of my body I ever had....
Wiping the blood and ganglion away, the doctor nonchalantly mentioned that the chances of success and the ganglion not coming back was 50/50, but that he would not mind to repeat the procedure a couple of times if necessary.
Well, if I would be on that side of the syringe, I probably wouldn't mind either, I thought.
But instead I gave him a cheery "Let's see." and made my way out of the hospital.
Luckily, so far the ganglion stays gone, so no trip back to the hospital ... and may it never happen.
PS. Did I mention that I hate syringes? Just the sight of them makes me cringe.
