Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Gross Room

PA: I'm cutting the frozen, it's almost ready.

Me: What is it?

PA: Pancreatic mass. Nothing in the computer.

Me: Ugh I hate pancreas. So my friend told me last week I'm the only one who hasn't heard of vodka tampons. I'm trying to prove her wrong.

PA: No luck here. Vodka tampons are all over the place. How could you have not heard of them?

Me: Living under a rock, I guess. You haven't tried that, have you?

PA: Hell no. Young girls are doing it, I hear. Helps to avoid the breathalyzer.

Me: But how do you regulate it? If you aren't sipping slowly. Wouldn't it be easier to OD? Where are the Vodka tampon rules and regulations?

PA: Yeah, it's supposed to absorb quickly; it's really vascular down there. I don't know. A new way to overdo it.

We both agreed that we certainly weren't the queens of abstinence in our younger years, method of delivery be damned.

Me: But still - tampons? Ewww.

PA: Can't disagree with you there. Here's the slide, it's ready.

Me to surgeon on bat phone: Long comment about frozen.

Surgeon: I can't hear a word you are saying on this intercom thing. Let me scrub out and get the phone.

Me: I know right? It's like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Surgeon: What do you think?

Me: Mostly chronically inflamed fibrosis. There isn't an epithelial wall per se, but some of the area that looks like lining is teeming with neutrophils. Could this be an old walled off abscess? I see atrophic acini, but no tumor.

Surgeon: So it might just be a pseudocyst? That's great news.

Me: Yeah that fits. We will look at the whole thing tomorrow to make sure.

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