Well, this is becoming a recurrent theme that I'm NOT liking. Today I had to go get some skin cancer cut out of my forehead......
I got to the doctor's office about 8:15 for my 8:30 appointment. They brought me in and prepped me. My blood pressure and pulse were a little high..... I was freaking out!!
The doctor comes in, cuts out a piece, cautherizes (sp?) my head, then they bandage me up and send me to the waiting room. It's like me and a bunch of people over the age of 65. The nurses keep coming out and telling people they are clean, then they take them back to stitch them up.
Finally my nurse opens the door and points her finger at me. I don't like that. I shake my head no. She tells me I can't say no and to get in there. They don't have a clean margin, so they want to cut again. Shit! That means a bigger wound to heal and it means more money (they charge by the number of cuts they have to make).
While I cursed my parents for giving me fair skin and a predisposition for this as well as cursing myself for deciding that being as tan as possible during the 80's was a good idea, they recut, recautherize, re-bandage, and send me out to wait again. At this point, I'm the only one in the waiting room - everyone else has been stitched up and gone home.
I finally get the clear, and I head back to stitch. Because they had to recut, now my stitches are vertical instead of horizontal and about 2 inches long. But the doctor swears that I'll heal better this way than with horizontal stitches.
So now I'm enjoying my PJs, some Vicodin, and some Tivo. Sarah's coming over tonight for chicken spaghetti and watching the Bachelorette..... I think I'll learn to enjoy forced relaxation!!
No comments:
Post a Comment