It’s been a while, so I thought I’d contribute to our wonderful family forum, and no Samantha, this isn't from your long lost cousin.
First of all, congratulations to Trevor for a great biathlon swim. It looks like you swam in the same pool that I did when I did the team competition a couple of times. I don’t know how it is now but when I swam, they kept the pool at a comfortable 82 degrees. It’s nice when you swim in warmer water because then you don’t have to go through a sauna session afterward.
I was coming home from work on Thursday and decided to take the bus home because I was going to be at work a little later than usual. It’s not very often but every once in a while I’ve wondered what I would do if someone took over the bus and started to rob everyone. Well it finally dawned on me that the chances of someone robbing the bus are highly unlikely. First, the bus is highly visible and people would notice that the bus wasn’t going anywhere. Second, waiting bus riders would get suspicious (or impatient) and call in to voice their suspicions (complain). Finally, after collecting a total of $2.14 from all the passengers on board, they would probably be picked up by the cops (with the help of cell phone, bus radio, etc). Or, the bus driver would probably run them over. The rational individual would see that the risk would be much greater than the reward. And since the bus is usually full of rational people…
I guess my latest news is that I finally had “the thing” removed from my chin. For those that were unaware of my plight, I first noticed the bump on my chin about two years ago. I was sitting in a government law class, most likely playing Madden football 2004 on my laptop on the back row when a perplexing question (or maybe just an itch) caused me to rub the aforementioned area. It was then I notice what seemed like the small pea-shaped bump.
Well, after another year and a half, Jenn finally succeeded in convincing me to go to the doctor, which (the first time) turned out to be a complete disaster—the doctor turned out to be a cross between Uncle Rico and Phil Mickelson. As I waited in the patient room, I was lucky to be entreated to numerous pictures on the wall of said dermatologist playing the greens. I first thought, “Okay, this guy probably just loves golf, and wants everyone to know it.” Come to find out, it wasn’t that simple—he talked to me for a total of 6 minutes, three of which were spent looking at his watch, undoubtedly late for an 11:30 tee time. His final words best summed up his professionalism when I asked him what he would recommend: “Oh, I don’t know… It’s probably a cyst (3 second pause) but usually cysts are softer than what you have…but you can do whatever you want.”
I left Dr. Rico’s office feeling a little discouraged. About a month later I went to a different dermatologist who proceeded to show me pictures, diagrams, etc. Paraphrasing Jason Kidd, going to this doctor was “360 degree turnaround.” Of course, his hands were shakier than Tim Allen’s movie career. (Which begs the question: Have Tim Allen’s movie choices sunk to a level on par with Shaq and Hulk Hogan. I mean, No Holds Barred and Blue Chips were good flicks, but before you know it, they roll out movies like Suburban Commando and Kazaam and you wonder if they lost a bet or something. I guess this all comes from seeing the previews of Tim Allen’s new movie, The Shaggy Dog. If anything, I probably won’t watch it for the mere reason that Mom will probably buy it on sale at Costco for $19.98, and I can watch it a couple of Christmas’s from now.
I made the follow-up appointment to go under the knife, even with the shaky hands. The night before the surgery, I woke up in cold sweats, beginning to realize that this surgery could hinder my success in life—I mean, my face is my livelihood (just kidding). No, but seriously...
I think this is probably a good place for a disclaimer: While I did have surgery on my chin and love (& live) to tell about it, it obviously comes nowhere close to what other members in our family have had to go through with other surgeries and I make no attempt to equate mine or minimize or parody those that others have gone through.
Now, just like most of the Tustison clan, I make it a general policy to avoid the doctor, until spousal nagging finally takes it toll. Therefore, I’m not generally versed in doctor’s office vernacular or the appropriate modus operandi—and the unfamiliarity made me a bit uncomfortable. The last time I went under the knife, I had been home from Honduras for about six months when I had a mole removed from my lower back. It was done at Mom’s 7th doctor’s office job, located in Sal Lay. For some reason, something as simple as a mole removal actually took about four nurses. I didn’t know if they were admiring my mole or waiting for me to crack a soda can between my shoulder blades.
So the point is that I was a little nervous going in. The doctor gave me four shots around the area, handed me some kind of mask with a hole in it and went to work with the scalpel. About halfway through, I thought I heard something drop to the floor (& my suspicions were comfirmed when the nurse picked something up.) And what do you know, it sounded like a little ball the size of a pea. Now, I know that the extent of my medical knowledge is only built on the first and second season of Grey’s Anatomy and that it may be minimal at best, but I do know two things: 1. Whatever fell probably wasn’t supposed to fall and 2. The ‘whatever’ was probably my twin (a la My Big Fat Greek Wedding).
Anyway, the whole process lasted about thirty minutes. I will most likely have a scar, but it will be rather imperceptible since he made the cut slightly underneath. Otherwise I would have an uneven butt chin.
Needless to say, everything went well and Jenn even took me afterwards to get a Blizzard at Dairy Queen. It reminded me of the first time I broke my arm trying to out-jump Tyler Veasey on the trampoline and Mom took me to the hospital after I had complained for a few days of uneasiness in my left arm, not to mention the concussion I received from the head-on collision with the ground. Anyway, after getting my arm wrapped up, I fondly remember the following: a) the Kit Kat on the way home, b) the drugs c) and of course the bendy WWF Pro Wrestler (I think it was Hulk Hogan).
But I want everyone to know that I am doing just fine. The recovery process has been good to me. I even went to our stake basketball tournament (against Jenn’s wishes) and ended up scoring half the points. Of course we lost 55 to 30. I also ran for a half hour the same day they released me (I didn’t have to stay overnight for observation) and ended up finding a ten dollar bill. I find that these extracurricular activities help me channel away the pain.
One final note: I am still waiting for Mom to write her 20,000 word blog about her new shiny Ipod. I don’t think everyone has heard about it yet…
First of all, congratulations to Trevor for a great biathlon swim. It looks like you swam in the same pool that I did when I did the team competition a couple of times. I don’t know how it is now but when I swam, they kept the pool at a comfortable 82 degrees. It’s nice when you swim in warmer water because then you don’t have to go through a sauna session afterward.
I was coming home from work on Thursday and decided to take the bus home because I was going to be at work a little later than usual. It’s not very often but every once in a while I’ve wondered what I would do if someone took over the bus and started to rob everyone. Well it finally dawned on me that the chances of someone robbing the bus are highly unlikely. First, the bus is highly visible and people would notice that the bus wasn’t going anywhere. Second, waiting bus riders would get suspicious (or impatient) and call in to voice their suspicions (complain). Finally, after collecting a total of $2.14 from all the passengers on board, they would probably be picked up by the cops (with the help of cell phone, bus radio, etc). Or, the bus driver would probably run them over. The rational individual would see that the risk would be much greater than the reward. And since the bus is usually full of rational people…
I guess my latest news is that I finally had “the thing” removed from my chin. For those that were unaware of my plight, I first noticed the bump on my chin about two years ago. I was sitting in a government law class, most likely playing Madden football 2004 on my laptop on the back row when a perplexing question (or maybe just an itch) caused me to rub the aforementioned area. It was then I notice what seemed like the small pea-shaped bump.
Well, after another year and a half, Jenn finally succeeded in convincing me to go to the doctor, which (the first time) turned out to be a complete disaster—the doctor turned out to be a cross between Uncle Rico and Phil Mickelson. As I waited in the patient room, I was lucky to be entreated to numerous pictures on the wall of said dermatologist playing the greens. I first thought, “Okay, this guy probably just loves golf, and wants everyone to know it.” Come to find out, it wasn’t that simple—he talked to me for a total of 6 minutes, three of which were spent looking at his watch, undoubtedly late for an 11:30 tee time. His final words best summed up his professionalism when I asked him what he would recommend: “Oh, I don’t know… It’s probably a cyst (3 second pause) but usually cysts are softer than what you have…but you can do whatever you want.”
I left Dr. Rico’s office feeling a little discouraged. About a month later I went to a different dermatologist who proceeded to show me pictures, diagrams, etc. Paraphrasing Jason Kidd, going to this doctor was “360 degree turnaround.” Of course, his hands were shakier than Tim Allen’s movie career. (Which begs the question: Have Tim Allen’s movie choices sunk to a level on par with Shaq and Hulk Hogan. I mean, No Holds Barred and Blue Chips were good flicks, but before you know it, they roll out movies like Suburban Commando and Kazaam and you wonder if they lost a bet or something. I guess this all comes from seeing the previews of Tim Allen’s new movie, The Shaggy Dog. If anything, I probably won’t watch it for the mere reason that Mom will probably buy it on sale at Costco for $19.98, and I can watch it a couple of Christmas’s from now.
I made the follow-up appointment to go under the knife, even with the shaky hands. The night before the surgery, I woke up in cold sweats, beginning to realize that this surgery could hinder my success in life—I mean, my face is my livelihood (just kidding). No, but seriously...
I think this is probably a good place for a disclaimer: While I did have surgery on my chin and love (& live) to tell about it, it obviously comes nowhere close to what other members in our family have had to go through with other surgeries and I make no attempt to equate mine or minimize or parody those that others have gone through.
Now, just like most of the Tustison clan, I make it a general policy to avoid the doctor, until spousal nagging finally takes it toll. Therefore, I’m not generally versed in doctor’s office vernacular or the appropriate modus operandi—and the unfamiliarity made me a bit uncomfortable. The last time I went under the knife, I had been home from Honduras for about six months when I had a mole removed from my lower back. It was done at Mom’s 7th doctor’s office job, located in Sal Lay. For some reason, something as simple as a mole removal actually took about four nurses. I didn’t know if they were admiring my mole or waiting for me to crack a soda can between my shoulder blades.
So the point is that I was a little nervous going in. The doctor gave me four shots around the area, handed me some kind of mask with a hole in it and went to work with the scalpel. About halfway through, I thought I heard something drop to the floor (& my suspicions were comfirmed when the nurse picked something up.) And what do you know, it sounded like a little ball the size of a pea. Now, I know that the extent of my medical knowledge is only built on the first and second season of Grey’s Anatomy and that it may be minimal at best, but I do know two things: 1. Whatever fell probably wasn’t supposed to fall and 2. The ‘whatever’ was probably my twin (a la My Big Fat Greek Wedding).
Anyway, the whole process lasted about thirty minutes. I will most likely have a scar, but it will be rather imperceptible since he made the cut slightly underneath. Otherwise I would have an uneven butt chin.
Needless to say, everything went well and Jenn even took me afterwards to get a Blizzard at Dairy Queen. It reminded me of the first time I broke my arm trying to out-jump Tyler Veasey on the trampoline and Mom took me to the hospital after I had complained for a few days of uneasiness in my left arm, not to mention the concussion I received from the head-on collision with the ground. Anyway, after getting my arm wrapped up, I fondly remember the following: a) the Kit Kat on the way home, b) the drugs c) and of course the bendy WWF Pro Wrestler (I think it was Hulk Hogan).
But I want everyone to know that I am doing just fine. The recovery process has been good to me. I even went to our stake basketball tournament (against Jenn’s wishes) and ended up scoring half the points. Of course we lost 55 to 30. I also ran for a half hour the same day they released me (I didn’t have to stay overnight for observation) and ended up finding a ten dollar bill. I find that these extracurricular activities help me channel away the pain.
One final note: I am still waiting for Mom to write her 20,000 word blog about her new shiny Ipod. I don’t think everyone has heard about it yet…
1 comment:
Dad and I are so glad to hear that you are doing okay. As all of you know, I am a doctor and we understand how pea-shaped lumps in the chin can be traumatic. As for the Tim Allen movie, I do not intend to waste my hard-earned money (or Dad's money) on his latest catastrophe. And just for the record, Dad took you to the hospital on a Sunday afternoon because I had to play the organ. As for my ipod, it now has about 1700 songs on it, including Yanni. That's too bad he was arrested last week for domestic abuse. But his music lives on. If it weren't for Chad's electronic knowledge, and Dad's credit card, I never would have ventured into the realm of itunes. Oh, the case is to die for, thanks to Jenn. It's too bad that you lost your basketball game. You should purchase the DVD "Church Ball" and maybe it will fire you up. Don't you just love the Bishop with the patch over his eye!!!
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