If you're reading this I appreciate that you've come back... nothing like checking in on a blog you (may) read (daily or a couple of times a week) and seeing nothing new..arrgh!
I hate that.
I'm sorry I did THAT to YOU...
We good?
Alrighty then...lets move on.
Alrighty then...lets move on.
It has been onehellofa week ten days..
Last week I had a rogue mole chopped off... into the tender skin above my knee cap the sawbones plunged a 6 inch (yes, yes it was, okay..maybe it wasn't) needle filled with some kind of numbing medicine. The nurse hovered over the surgery site, pliers in hand as the doctor carved underneath the gigantic (obviously) diseased mass with (what felt like) a machete.
Not so carefully, the doctor sawed the many tentacles that anchored the mole in place... once he freed a good sized portion of the hideous creature, the nurse held it up by the pliers and the doctor severed the blood supply.
Then the monster blob was dropped into a specimen container and shipped to a nearby lab for an evaluation.
"It doesn't look good" the doctor said (he didn't actually say that, but he looked like he was going to).
I also had blood taken.... something I do every three months to make sure some meds I take aren't hurting my kidneys.
I should have been surprised (but I wasn't) when the nurse called a couple of days later and said "doc wants to see you" and "he can talk to you when he removes the stitches"... (it was a long week people)
I also had blood taken.... something I do every three months to make sure some meds I take aren't hurting my kidneys.
I should have been surprised (but I wasn't) when the nurse called a couple of days later and said "doc wants to see you" and "he can talk to you when he removes the stitches"... (it was a long week people)
For kicks my sister Susan (the one who doesn't read this blog) came with me to the appointment.. (well, I called her nearly hysterical with worry what else could she do but agree to accompany me...?)
We waited for almost an hour and a half in a jam packed waiting room and when we were finally called in Susan looked a tad shell shocked when I stepped toward the scale and started stripping.
In her arms she held my clothes, my shoes, my purse (I'd stuffed my lucky coin in my butt crack) while I stepped around the corner to be weighed.
"I never saw anyone get buck naked to get weighed...?" Susan observed.
"WOW" I said ( VERY loudly) to the nurse "110, AS USUAL".
"Ohhh my gawd YOU are soooo full of shit" I heard a voice from around the corner whisper.
"I WEIGH one hundred eleven" the voice continued.
In the room Susan nerves got the best of her, causing her to do odd things, like pocket a pair of gloves.
She said next she was going to steal the blood pressure cuff....
When she jumped up and started opening the cupboard drawers I had to draw the line...
(She doesn't read this blog, so I can accuse her of anything...tee-hee)
(Okay, so in all fairness, she opened the cupboard door to free a cord that was stuck inside..."it was bugging me" she said.)
While we waited she tried to get my mind off things by talking about how I couldn't weigh 110 pounds...but I wouldn't budge.
"Yes I DO..."
"No YOU DON'T"
"I DO"
"YOU DON'T"
"I DO SO"
"I HEARD YOU AND YOU DON'T"....
I was just about to slug her when the door opened and the dr walked in.
I was just about to slug her when the door opened and the dr walked in.
"You're mole..." he said, "was a..... then continued with a big long word that I didn't understand.
"What does THAT mean?" I asked, beginning to panic.
"I don't want to say IT in front of your sister..." doctor said.
Well it wasn't some kind of vaginal wart...it was a mole on my kneecap.
"You can go ahead and say IT" I said... feeling suddenly courageous.
He said the big word again and then he explained.
"Your mole was a funny skin growth that old people get... like REALLY OLD PEOPLE"
Susan didn't hear the rest... "Kind of unusual in people your age"...
She was cackling wayyyyy too loud and pounding her hand on the arm of the chair
I swear to god one of these days I'm gonna shank that hootch.
*Note.... I am not making fun of skin cancer or people who receive sad and devastating news at dr appointments... I'm making fun of oddballs like myself who nearly go nuts worrying about moles (about the size of a pencil eraser) and everything other little ache and pain that they think is going to result in a terminal diagnosis...living life as a raging hypochondriac sucks..
Thank you for your visit...please come again.
xoxo
Dear PPB: Had to comment...Just had to.....Love your blog and the things you write...I can see you and your sister, I can hear the comments and I am laughing my #@# off at the both of you . It is so nice to have her in your life...I am so glad you have the relationship you have.. What would you, either of you do without the other? I love the two of you so very much.....MOM
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