Show me your scar and I'll show you mine...

I have a new appreciation and fascination with medical stories.

Anyone who's known me for any period of time knows I have always been squeamish about bodily interference. I passed out in the nurse's office in sixth grade following a nasty gash suffered at the business end of a linoleum carver in art class. In seventh grade I had to sit down on the curb of the strip mall parking lot after my knees buckled under the weight of my newly pierced ears. I sobbed so uncontrollably when a tetanus shot was administered that my mother was called in from the waiting room to deal with me. This was my college entrance physical. The people in the waiting room were stunned when an 18 year old emerged from the exam room with a pile of bunched up tissues and puffy eyes. I was 34 the first time I had blood drawn (not counting the finger pricks I had endured with great surrounding drama as a child).

But let me tell you, brain surgery has changed all that. I won't lie, I still don't love having blood drawn, but there have been some amazing transformations. The fact that I'm even contemplating the follow up surgery to have a snap implanted in my skull to anchor a hearing device onto my head speaks volumes (no pun intended). I've attended enough cocktail parties and dinners in other than museum-quiet settings to know that I will eventually have this surgery.

Beyond this, I seem to have passed comfort into fascination with all-things-medical. I ask inappropriately specific questions of friends - or even people I've just met - about procedures they've had done or are contemplating. I just wade right in and probe on the kinds of details I would have shunned in the past. I also have a new obsession: the plastic surgery makeover show on the Discovery Health channel. Have you SEEN this show? Amazing. There was a marathon on the other day - I could not tear myself away. [Update: I started writing this post last week before the death of Kanye West's mother following a tummy tuck and breast reduction. Did you know her doctor was the host of that Discovery Health show? Turns out he's not even board certified. What the hell!?]

Anyway, here's a story I heard recently that I find totally amazing. I don't know if it's truly fascinating or it's just my newly acquired taste for medically oriented tales that holds me rapt, but you be the judge.

I met two of my good friends for lunch the other day. They are a pair of creatives I worked with up until about 5 or 6 years ago - and I LOVED working with them. They still work together. I try my best to catch up with them from time to time. This was our first gathering since my surgery, so they were asking me lots of questions. Turns out, I'm not their only friend who's been through a recent major surgery, and they recounted this story to me...

Another friend of theirs faced a much more dire situation, but luckily is doing just fine now. This poor woman suffered from lung disease that necessitated a lung transplant. Indeed, she was lucky enough to be the recipient of an amazing act of generosity from a family in their own dire situation. After a successful transplant surgery and recovery, the patient reached out to meet the family. They hadn't sealed the records. Maybe they felt that meeting this person would help them feel their loved one had not died in vain.

During the emotional meeting, the family asked what kind of physical differences the patient was experiencing. She explained that other than the exhilaration of simply feeling healthy again, this lifelong dedicated organic-food worshiper had the odd side effect of an undeniable craving for the fish fillet sandwich at McDonald's. She was horrified to find she couldn't help but give in to the fast food urge once or twice a week.

Of course you can guess what I'm about to say. The girl who's lungs had been donated loved the fish fillet sandwich from McDonald's and ate it all the time.

I'm sure doctors could never explain this. But I think the good ones would not dispute it.