One day I stopped in the pharmacy for some cream to ease the arthritis in my hands. After conferring with the pharmacist she frowned slightly and said “honestly, I’d be more worried about your forearm. It looks swollen. Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“I think you should get it checked.”
I thanked her and when I got back to the truck I relayed her concerns to my husband.
“She’s right, it does look bigger than your other arm” he said. “Why don’t you check in with the doctor?”
So off we went to the doctor’s office. I asked the receptionist if there was anyone free that I could speak to.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
I related the pharmacist’s concerns.
“She’s right, it does look swollen. Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“I agree. I think you should get it checked. Unfortunately everyone’s booked up today. Your doctor is down at the hospital in emerge. You could go down there and if it’s not busy you could see him.”
I thanked her and when I got back into the truck I relayed the conversation to my husband.
“Hmmmf. That’ll be the day when emerge isn’t busy, but we can always go and check.”
So off we went to the hospital. Walking in, I bumped into a friend, a nurse who worked there.
“Hi. How are you?” she asked.
“You should know better than to ask that question here” I teased her.
We laughed and then I told her about the swollen arm, holding it out to show her.
“Oh, that does look swollen.” she exclaimed “Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s probably a good idea to get it checked.”
So I lined up and got registered at the front desk. The admission clerk asked what the problem was and I related the concerns of pharmacist, medical receptionist, and friend.
“It does look swollen” she confirmed. I sighed.
“Did you injure it?” she asked.
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
She gave me my paperwork and off I went to the emergency room. It was busy. Having invested so much time into the question of the swollen arm, I was loathe to abandon the search for the reason behind it. I called the doctors office and asked the helpful receptionist if she thought it worthwhile to go to one of the drop in clinics. She agreed that was a good idea and even let me know which one had the shortest wait time.
So, off I went to the walk in clinic. I presented myself to the medical receptionist there and she asked what the problem was. I related to her the concern of pharmacist, the first medical receptionist, my friend, and the admission clerk.
“It does look swollen.”
I gritted my teeth and smiled.
“Did you injure it?” she asked
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“The doctor should have a look at it. Have a seat.”
So I sat.
Ten minutes later I was ushered into the doctor’s office by his assistant.
“What is the problem today?” she asked cheerily.
I related the collective concerns of pharmacist, medical receptionist number one, my friend, the admitting clerk, and medical receptionist number 2.
“Hmm, yea it does look swollen. Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?” she poked my arm.
“No.”
“The doctor will be in to look at it in a few minutes.”
So I waited.
A pleasant doctor smiled as she entered, saying “what seems to be the problem today?”
I squared my shoulders and related the unanimous consensus of pharmacist, medical receptionist number one, my friend, the admitting clerk, medical receptionist number 2, and the medical assistant.
She took my forearm in her hands and after she had prodded it gently for a while she looked into my eyes and said.
“It certainly does look swollen.”
Now, I’m not utterly obtuse. I knew what was coming next.
“Did you injure it?” she asked.
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
A pensive frown crossed her face.
“ I think a CT scan is in order.”
So, off I went to the hospital for a CT scan. The admission clerk nodded approvingly that I had obviously followed up on her advice to have my swollen arm looked at.
The CT technician welcomed me and read over the paperwork. “
left arm, eh?” she reached out to me and I lifted my arm to her. She studied it a few seconds.
“Yup, that looks swollen alright.”
I was almost giddy with the farcical foreknowledge of what the next thing out of her mouth would be.
“Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
After the CT scan was completed the technician advised me to see my doctor in a few day, when he should be in receipt of the CT scan results.
So, several days later, I was sitting in my doctor’s office. He asked what the problem was. I related the epic tale of the swollen arm.
“Yes” he said. “It does look swollen.”
I shuddered.
“Did you injure it?”
“No.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
He looked up the CT scan results.
“Hmm” he rubbed his chin absently as he studied his computer screen. “Well” he said, turning to me. “It’s adipose.”
“Adipose?” I echoed.
“Fat” he explained.
“So I have one forearm that’s fatter than the other?.”
“Yes.”
I got into the truck and informed my husband of the diagnosis.
“Thought it might be something like that” he said.
The funniest part of this story, to me anyway, is that it’s completely true… every word.
Linda Studley 