When It's Positive to be Negative

In light of this country's need for healthcare reform, I think it would be short sighted to stop with just the healthcare itself. While we're tackling these issues and identifying what needs to be changed, it's high time we also consider the medical terminology itself.

For years, we hear doctors use phrases, abbreviations, acronyms and more without stopping to think how ridiculous it all sounds. And, because I've had my share of x-rays, MRIs, and surgeries, I think I'm uniquely qualified to lead the charge.

So, just what qualifies as nonsense in the medical vernacular? Well, for starters, where else in the English language is negative news looked at as a positive?

"John, we received your test results. And it's "negative." "Thank the Lord for that."

Any other part of your life that uses the negative usually means things like: you didn't get the job, your reviews were horrible, someone didn't accept your invitation on Facebook, you failed your weigh-in at Weight Watchers, or your spouse said they have a headache. However, in medicine, "negative" means only one thing. You're a winner.

In the same category lies one of my favorite medical terms: "Unremarkable." This is easily interchanged with negative, when hearing the results of a test. You wait about 3 days to hear back, and the doctor hits you with:

"Well, you were "unremarkable". And you're thrilled. "Did you hear that, Stan, the doctor thought I was unremarkable!" "Actually, I thought you've been unremarkable for the last 15 years."

Who wants to be known as unremarkable? That's what you use to describe a new restaurant, or a bad date. Maybe even a movie. But in the medical community, unremarkable means only good news. They looked at the MRI, and you're clean. Your blood test is fine.

Here's another anomaly. For years we've been told that cholesterol is something to be tested, monitored, controlled, and analyzed. People have begun to memorize their numbers, and are not shy about telling you. "Hi, I'm 210." So why did they ever introduce the theory of "good" cholesterol? (or HDL) Couldn't they have gone with a different name? Don't even call it cholesterol at all. It forms in your liver, so call it something everyone knows like, "chopped liver." People like chopped liver and recognize it as a positive. Er, as a negative as it takes cholesterol away from the heart. Damn. Now I'm confused.

Of course, to get results from any test, you need machines. And many of the common machines have names that don't sound like they were designed for humans. Let's say your doctor orders you a Catscan, or maybe a Petscan. Shouldn't you be checking to see if you mistakenly went to a Vet? "Hey buddy, tell my dog to get a Petscan." And some other tests use language that softens up how difficult they actually are. Like a spinal tap. Simple, right? It sounds like someone's going to give you a light pat on the back. Imagine your surprise when they grab your spinal fluid through a lumbar puncture. Or how about a pap smear? It sounds like something you'd put on a bagel. "Yes, I'll have a cinnamon raisin with a side of pap smear." Guess again.

Sometimes, doctors just get plain lazy. When they've run out different ways to describe the condition, they just take a part of your body and ad the activity which probably caused the injury. My favorite has always been swimmer's ear. Your ear hurts, you were swimming....swimmer's ear! Or how about tennis elbow? What a cop out that is. The latest is reserved for those injured on artificial grass. Turf toe. It doesn't even sound serious. These all sound like petty nuisances, but if you've had any of them, it hurts like hell.

Now, if any of these conditions need surgery, you're in for a long ride. And if for some reason it doesn't work, don't worry. They now have revision surgery. This is great. So you destroy your knee, and you go in so they can fix it. If it doesn't work, they revise it. Whoops, sorry. Do over. Are they nuts? This isn't Simon Says. This is your f'n knee.

Even if you're the picture of health, the medical community has enough for you to constantly test. So don't even think of relaxing. Because thanks to your doctor's job to keep your brain and heart healthy, you'll go on for the rest of your life monitoring very calm items such as your nervous system, and your blood pressure.

Somebody pass the valium.

Giving Me the Boot

After two hip surgeries, including one where it was replaced altogether, I've had my share of medical devices.

The short list includes canes, crutches, claws, sock pull-ups, a commode, and my personal favorite.....the ice machine. Suffice it to say that under any analysis, I feel that I've had enough of these items to last a lifetime.

That's why I couldn't be more disappointed to discover that the nagging softball injury I suffered on artificial turf was not, as I had suspected, a sprained foot. I went through the perfunctory X-ray (inconclusive) and MRI (made much better by the satellite radio station that was pumping through the headphones). But had to wait about 3 days to find out what I had. So, I started rationalizing all the possibilities.

It could be a break, a fracture, a torn tendon, a torn ligament, or the latest trendy injury with the extremely lame moniker, "turf toe." I waited a day for the results, only to find that I had none of these. I did, however, have a torn joint capsule.

What the hell was that? I know that "torn" is never particularly good, and neither is any injury to the joint. It was the "capsule" that was throwing me. Without getting into the rudiments of basic podiatry, this translated into a few key recovery items.

Rest, Immobility......and........THE BOOT. Not Das Boot. The dreaded foot boot.

Now, I have probably seen hundreds, no, maybe thousands of people in these large stabilization boots. And I'm in tune with the necessity for them. In fact, if you have a normal size foot, they almost look...cool.

The problem is, I'm a size 12. For shoes, skates, sandals, and sneakers, there really isn't a terribly noticeable difference from the norm. But put on a therapeutic boot, and you just grabbed a bullhorn, jumped onto a loudspeaker, hired a cheerleading squad,and broadcast in stereo to look down at this deformity.

When I went to the podiatrist to size it, they said that my toes protruded beyond the large size. (Who did they think they were fitting, "Shaq?") Therefore, the only comfortable option was an X-large. To put this into the proper perspective, the difference between the large an X-large was about 2 city blocks.

After I left the doctor, I began to walk down 7th avenue to test my theory. And sure enough, it was true. With a single step, I covered both 54th and 55th streets. When you work in the city, it takes a lot for people to notice you. They've seen everything. But I couldn't help noticing that as I made my approach down the street, people were taking cover like a tsunami was coming.

Back at the office, several co-workers were wondering if I was actually wearing a boot, or a cage you transport animals in. It was a valid question. Later that day, my kids caught sight of it for the first time and became caught between sympathy and hysterics. In case you were wondering, the hysterics won.

So, I'll be stuck with this boot for a full month which invariably will present itself with literally hours of comic relief. First, it will look great with a pinstripe suit. The perfect accessory. It will also be ideal for big client meetings, especially when I stand up. And I do worry about flying. If I check it, it'll be over the weight limit. If I wear it, there is a possibility that it will weigh the plane down. I probably can't get the emergency row either. Maybe I'll take the train.

If you do see me in the next month, please take the proper precautions. Tuck and roll, wear a helmet, and leave at least 5 car lengths between the two of us.

Olympic Basements and Back Yards

When I was a kid, I remember listening to one of my favorite George Carlin routines called, "Sports." For those of you not as familiar, Carlin expertly defines what qualifies as a sport and then deftly proves how a majority of well known sports simply don't make the grade.

One of his rules was that to be an established sport, your game must use a ball. This eliminated hockey from the conversation to which Carlin added, "Hockey is played with a puck. The only other time a puck has been used is in a urinal in the men's room."

Well, that was over 30 years ago, and I think the list needs a refresher. And I can think of no better time than the 2012 Summer Olympics. Just look on any program grid, and some of these games just stick out like a sore thumb. You already know where I stand on beach volleyball. But when you add ping pong and badminton to the repertoire, you begin to see a trend.

These aren't Olympic sports. They're leisure activities you do with family and friends on the weekends. And I think there should be one simple rule for all Olympic sports.

If you can play it in your basement or in your back yard, it's not a sport.

At this pace, it's only a matter of time before air hockey becomes an Olympic sport. Just a hunch, but I think Canada would be considered the favorites. Especially if the players get the urge to grab a stick and play on the table.

But let's play this out a few steps further. What if the Summer Olympics allowed just about anything you can do in a basement or in a back yard? Think of the possibilities!

First, I could see them adding "Barbecuing." The trials alone would make for must-see TV. Just a bunch of fat guys holding a beer and flipping burgers. And I can hear the announcers, "just look at his seasoning technique, not to mention the way he cleans that grill."

Another backyard favorite, and a natural for the Summer, would be "Tag." Wouldn't that be awesome if you were known as one of the best Tag players in the world? Some players would be great "eluders", while others would master being "It."

Next, for those who love the winter slalom, you won't have to wait every 4 years anymore. Now we'll have a fine summer equivalent when we add "Slip and Slide" to the 2016 games. Just imagine those athletes racing down steep hills on their stomachs. It will be sight to behold. Some players will be even be disqualified for falling onto the grass. Oh, the heartbreak.

Of course, no backyard Olympic sport would be complete without adding, "Swings." We would have 2 distinct categories. One for height, and the other for distance. When it comes to distance, athletes would jump off the swing and land in a sand lot. Picture the current long distance jump, but from a swing set. (Extra points of course, for the nicest swing set.)

I would be remiss if I didn't explore the basement as well. Especially because they already allow ping pong. So, the first basement qualifier would be Olympic "Twister." Wouldn't you love to proudly say that you made the All American Twister team? It has nice cache. And I'm sure the uniforms would be very cool.

If you couldn't make the Twister team, there would always be "Monopoly." Each country would be represented by a different token. We'd give the car to the Japanese. England gets the top hat. Italy claims the thimble. The U.S. will don the wheel barrel. However, this would not be our best event. Somewhere along the line, we'd get caught for stealing money.

And finally, no Summer Olympics would be complete without the addition of that game of sweet revenge, "Sorry." Another perfect fit. The colors on the board match many of those in the Olympic rings, so it's a great ambassador of the games. And I couldn't think of any other sport, where just at the moment you move ahead of your opponent, you utter that thoughtful word, "sorry."

No one's sorrier than me that that the London games continue to let just about anyone in.