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I Love My Doctor(s)

I Love My Doctor(S)

Well, I made another trip to the dermatologist yesterday. He and I are like family cousins, you know, the one you like the best, except that the doctor charges when I visit him.

My visit was to remove another one of those pesky skin cancers from my forehead. I have a history of Basal Cell cancers.  I make a lot of visits because of the many years I spent outside without taking precautions to protect my skin. 

WARNING: Here is where I provide some cautionary advice. PLEASE take care of your skin.                                        

In one of my previous posts, I mentioned that every year I wanted a new birthday suit for Christmas and Santa never delivers. One reason I need a new birthday suit is because I did not take care of my skin during all those years when I worked outside. Not that I worked outside in my birthday suit, but you know what I mean. I have it on good authority; you will NOT get a new birthday suit. I do not charge for my advice, it is completely free.

So the nurse began the process. First, she takes my picture. I told her not to paste it on Facebook. She agreed. It was a detailed picture of my forehead. I think it was a “before” picture. Eventually, she will take an “after” picture. That way, I can end up in a TV commercial.

The next thing she did was to inflict pain on my forehead. She stuck me with tiny needles that numbed the area for surgery. Do you realize there is not much skin on your forehead? Maybe it is better if you are thickheaded.

The first two or three penetrations on my head were indeed painful, however, afterwards,  it began to numb. (some would say, I am already numb in the head.) Then my “good” friend, Doctor G. (name change to protect the “innocent”) welcomed me into his establishment. He asked how I was doing. My reply was not good. One would think that a doctor would know his surgical unit was not high on the list of places to visit. They have no windows, consequently, no view to enjoy. They have no refreshments, no pictures on the wall. This seems to be the place where one would need a good stiff drink. (Coke, fully caffeinated)

He discussed how during The surgery,  I would feel a little pushing and shoving and possible pressure as he slices and dices, (My words, not his) but not to worry. (he called it a procedure, Note: It is a “procedure” when it happens to someone else when it happens to you it is definitely surgery.) He told me that if I feel any pain to tell him and he would administer more local anesthesia. I’m thinking if I felt any pain, it would already be too late.

Doctor G. Said if he removed it all the first time, they will bandage my head and send me home. If they did not get all of it, then we would have to endure the process all over again. This is why they call it a “practice.”

As he began to cut, country music was playing in the background, more specifically, bluegrass music. I am a fan of bluegrass and thought it was appropriate however, there was a fiddle tune playing that was very fast. I suggested to my “good” friend, Doctor G. that perhaps he could play something a little slower as I could feel him keeping time with the music. Since my face was covered I could not see any expressions on their faces, however, I’m pretty sure they were giggling under their breath. They were also reliving their New Year’s Eve experiences. After listening to that, I am glad this took place several days after New Year’s Day, for I would not have wanted to be the first patient of the new year.

Well, to make a long story short, as they say, they actually removed all of the skin cancer the first time. That was good news. He explained how he did his best to do the surgery in a wrinkle so that it would not be too noticeable. I asked, “does this mean I did not get a face lift?” He said maybe a mini-face lift. At my age, a lift of any kind is welcome news.

The nurse finished suturing the wound, instructed me how to deal with the consequences of the surgery and followed up with an appointment to remove the sutures. So I left with no facelift and a hole in the head, for which some say I already had one of those.

I thanked both of them, being polite, you know, and made my way to the door. Doctor G. shook my hand and wished me well.

I have an appointment tomorrow with my primary physician. We are on a first name basis, too.

Hope your day goes well.