Sounds romantic, doesn't it? No. Not at all. But that's what it amounts to. A basal cell carcinoma to be exact. Quite small. Not serious, they said. A bit of plastic surgery, they said, and you'll be fine.
What kind of plastic surgery? Well, they cut out the lesion, cut a patch from the cheek, keeping the blood supply intact, and stick it to the nose. Voila!
Questions I forgot to ask:
1. But what about the hole in the cheek? I could carry on with patches all the way down to my knees and beyond, each patch repairing the hole left by its predecessor.
2. How exactly do you apply the patch without turning it inside out and therefore severing the connection?
3. How soon will I be fit to be seen?
4. In fact, will I ever be fit to be seen?
5. You have done this before, haven't you?
Question to which I already know the answer:
Will it hurt? Yes. Like blazes. Even the doctor admitted this. Not the procedure, but the injection in the nose. I had one last week. It was excruciating. But I suppose better than having this done without the injection (well, that's the point, right?).
I phoned ( physician) son for reassurance. Response: "I don't know. I'm not a surgeon." Then, "you'll be okay, Mum". But he didnt sound very convincing.
Think of me, next Tuesday. When I and my nose go under the knife. And then I'll be able to tell you all about it (I bet you can't wait).
Showing posts with label abject cowards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abject cowards. Show all posts
Wednesday, 12 November 2014
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