If there’s one thing that’s been rattling around in that cobwebbed attic of yours you call a brain, I’ll bet you’ve been wondering how my last dental visit went. Fine thanks.
Except for one thing.
The hygienist says to me, “Oh you have large tonsils. I’ll bet everybody tells you that.”
Actually, no. Nobody has ever told me that.
So I go home and I look in the mirror and I see one big-ass tonsil. One big-ass yellow marble tonsil. Wanna see?
See that yellow marble there on your left, my right?
Well it doesn’t hurt or anything, so I wait until my husband has badgered me 437 times before I go to the doctor, who presses down on my tongue with two popsicle sticks and says, “Huh. I’ve never seen one of those before.”
He knew what it was, a tonsillar cyst, but had never seen one in a patient, I guess.
I also had him look at the thing on my hand. Remember when I showed you that? That thing on my hand that I figured was a ganglion cyst that Doc Martin on the BBC sitcom bashed with a Bible?
“Yup,” my doctor says. “That’s a cyst, too.”
Apparently cheerleaders get them, for what that’s worth. My doctor specializes in sports medicine, so maybe he sees a lot of pompom girls bouncing through his exam room, I don’t know.
Three days later, I’m at the Ear Nose and Throat guy, who looks in my mouth and says, “Ohh yeah, look at that.” Only he draws out the “Oh”, like the beginning of a fire engine siren: “ohhhHHHHhhhhh”.
Then he says, “I wanna spray the back of your throat to see what happens.”
“When you do what, exactly,” I whine, my gag reflex already revving its engine at the thought of whatever long and pointy-grabby tool he wants to shove down there.
“I want to feel it.”
That spray stuff numbed my throat and I couldn’t feel myself swallow, which I didn’t like. Although, it did taste like banana, which was nicely distracting.
Then he went in for the kill, holding the back of my head while shoving his fingers in my mouth and presumably feeling the yellow marble and squeezing the crap out of it and while he was in the neighborhood, probably drilling up my nasal cavity since it was all numb and banana-flavored, until I finally gagged.
It’s a funny and involuntary thing, gagging. While I was well aware of gagging, I was less aware of the fact that I had also cowered back and grabbed his arm to pull it out of my mouth.
Then he did it again and I did it again. I felt like a disobedient six-year-old, but he didn’t seem to mind. I wonder how many people he gags in a day.
So for all you people who Googled “tonsil cyst” or “yellow marble for a tonsil”, the ENT guy says it’s a mucus-filled cyst. And we’ll just have to learn to live with each other.
Oh sure, he could have stuck a needle in there and sucked all the juice out, (the non-graphic term is “aspirate”) but he said it would probably come back again. And he said it could very well go away on its own.
So, yeah. I have a snot ball in the back of my mouth.
The question is, how am I going to get back there and whack it with a Bible?
[UPDATE 11/28/2011: So, one day, about a month or so ago, my cyst just vanished. I didn’t notice when it happened. I looked in the mirror one day and it was gone. Like magic. Maybe I ate a big stabby tortilla chip or something, or maybe I coughed really hard, who knows? Anyway, I just wanted to let you know what eventually happened.]