Triple stress action coming.
My dermatologist found some skin cancer on my chin right under the left corner of my lower lip.
It's just basal cell so apparently no great cause for alarm.
But this coming Monday I roll out of bed at the ungodly hour of 4 something am to be at Georgetown Hospital at 5:30am for surgery at 7:30.
How lucky was I that somebody cancelled that spot?
On GG's suggestion, I went to Plastic Surgery At Georgetown, where she worked for many years to see her favorite Doctor.
Now you must remember my legal name isn't Jane, it's rather long and very Irish Catholic.
So I go by Jane.
Imagine the surprise of both myself and the nurse when Dr. Pittman was "Are you GG's ex?"
When I said "yes", the nurse whirled around on her stool and said "Jane"?
And imagine their surprise when the "responsible adult" who comes to pick me post op is GG's sister, mother of the former Mr. B, now Mr. Big Shot, who just had her own surgery, same Doctor, though a much more difficult procedure a scant two weeks ago.And do you know how hard it is to find a responsible adult who isn't working on Monday morning?
I think the stressful part comes from all the phone calls from different departments in the Hospital asking me the same questions. My answers are pretty much "no", which makes me feel very healthy. But one more round of this and I might take some recreational drugs.
Just for fun you understand.
Oh my god, the worst of it all? No gardening for 10 days after surgery!!
Why oh why is it always no gardening just when I've gotten strong enough to dig up and move a rosebush by myself?
Glass half full:
I'll be able to fill the house with lily of the valley
And I'm promised a little scar which might make me at 5'2 and 110 lbs. look a tad more dangerous.
Get back Jack!