Thursday, March 01, 2007

Effects of the evil orb

Some of you may remember this rant that I wrote last December about trying to see the dermatologist about what I thought was a return of my skin cancer.

What? You don't remember and you just aren't in the mood to click the link? Fine, here's the Reader's Digest version:

I had skin cancer surgery in May of 2005. Late in 2006 I noticed a growth that looked just like the original cancer on the same spot. I made an appointment with my not-any-longer-because-his-office-doesn't-believe-in-customer-service dermatologist, who then proceeded to essentially stand me up, so I refused to go back.

Not being one to just let potential skin cancer eat away my face, I made an appointment with Richie's plastic surgeon (he's been treating her for skin cancer), way back in December. His first available appointment was Feb. 26. Believe me, this annoyed me but I couldn't go back to the old dermatologist on account of the big fit I threw in their office (my blood starts to simmer just thinking about it).

So Monday, I ran off to see the plastic surgeon for what I assumed would be a consultation appointment. Dude, was I wrong.

The guy — who was very thorough and very odd ... he says, "uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" a lot — checked me all over for other signs of skin cancer (none of the other two DERMATOLOGISTS looked anywhere but where I pointed) and spent a long time checking out the lumps and bumps on my face.

It was a good news/bad news situation:

The good news was that the cancer had not come back. The thing I thought was a cancerous mole was actually a milia (a little cyst thing) that formed along the scar — ick and whatever ... the doctor cut it open and cleaned it out and now it's all good.

The bad news is that he found yet another spot of skin cancer on my face. Nice. I'm all skin cancery. 'the hell?

Anyway, he froze that off with the liquid nitrogen.

Oh and he did all of that sans any type of anesthesia which is fine but still ... ouch.

So that's that. I have skin cancer. I have to keep going back and having him say, "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh" while looking all intensely at my face.

The sun is evil, mmmkay?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

He's a good doctor. You'll learn to just look somewhere else while he's looking at you. Avoid eye contact while he has those funny glasses on because it is a very awkward moment to look into his jumbo magnified eyes. He's not a guy you'd want to have a drink with but definately a guy you trust to freeze bits of your face off. (or in my case, cut open your nose, dig out cancerous skin, replace it with your ear skin, all while awake and 6 months preggie.)