I spuddle.

Dear Mole That I Had Removed Last Friday,

Look, I’m sorry I had you cut out of my body in a disgusting way.    Believe me, it was grosser for me than it was for you.   I had to a) SEE it (er, you) and b) four stitches.   The place where you once were is still uncomfortable in that revolting, pulling way that stitches are uncomfortable.   But!   These stitches are not long for this world because! All the skin that you once touched now is also being removed, including the four stitches.   I am not happy about this turn of events.   At all.    But I guess I have to say thanks.    Thanks for being ugly and black and making me anxious for six to eight weeks before I worked up the balls to tell my dermatologist that I didn’t care if I had to pay (thanks, BC Medical!), I really really didn’t want you ON me anymore.    If I had listened to everyone who said, “Myenh, it’s probably OK”, what would you have done?   But you looked too much like your long-ago removed brother, Malignant Melanoma, for me to ignore.   Thank goodness I didn’t.   And thank you for not BEING a malignant melanoma.   It’s not always good to grow up to be like your brother, even though you were apparently trying.

On the other hand, the following things freak me out:

1.  Local Anaesthetics

2.  Needles bearing local anaesthetics that have to be dragged around subcutaneously in a way that makes me want to leap from my skin like a clawing cat while screaming like someone giving birth to a cheese grater.

3.  Stitches

When you were removed, I explained to the dermatologist that I really should have taken a Xanax or an Ativan beforehand, or perhaps both.  This is because no matter how hard I tried, I could not stop my feet from trying to kick him in the nuts while he wielded the scalpal.    He laughed and said, “NOT FOR A LITTLE THING LIKE THIS!”   And I said, “Oh!”  But what I meant was, “GIVE ME A XANAX OR AN ATIVAN BECAUSE I AM FREAKING OUT OVER HERE!”   Anyway, he said “No!” (and laughed merrily) and he’s the doctor but I swear I will find some Xanax and/or Ativan before this next “tiny little procedure” that will have me hyperventilating and perhaps throwing up into my shoe beforehand, not to mention during.   Did I mention how that pulling sensation of stitches being dragged through the skin makes me want to behead a chicken with my bare teeth?   No?   Well, it does.   I can’t explain it, that’s just the way it is.

Anyway, you’re gone now, in a lab, having been disgustingly pulled apart.   I can’t say I’m sorry that you’re gone.   I just can’t.   And don’t worry, I’ll be sending a LOT of your brothers your way soon.

Love,

Karen

PS – Seriously, everyone, WEAR SUNSCREEN.   All the time.  You want a  suntan?  It’s totally NOT worth it.   Trust me.

Filed under: Health, Me, Myself and I