I'm getting a lobotomy on 27 April.
Well, it's going to look like I've had a lobotomy.
Nah, really, I've had a small skin cancer taken off my forehead/temple, my doctor didn't go deep enough and the histology stated that all the margins weren't as clear as they should be. So I've been referred to a plastic surgeon, who removes 20-30 of these things a week. It's something that has to go, but in the scheme of things, it's been caught early and all will be well.
He talked through the procedure, done in a day surgery place. I'm rather happy I get a sanctioned day off from work. (Big yay!).
"This will leave you with a scar," he tells me.
"Scars make you interesting."
"It will be a fine scar"
"Doesn't matter," I tell him,"I can tell people I've had a labotomy, and they will believe me."
He smiled at me.
"How did you get that scar in your eyebrow?" noticing the bald patch and fine scar that's been there for decades.
"My sister. I was eleven years old. She donged me with a five-iron. Told you scars make you interesting."
He asked if I had any concerns.
"Just keloids."
"You should be fine - have you got keloid scars?"
"Only the one in my belly button from a laproscopic surgery."
"That's common. You should be fine."
And that was that. The surgery date has been set. I've got the day off work sorted. I'll call my health fund to make sure the day surgery is covered. I wait knowing this. And I'll keep working like a slave until then.
It's a bit sad when you are grateful for a doctor's appointment to take you away from work.
I'm a bit grateful that this, although it's a skin cancer, is one that is easily treated.
You have to look for the small mercies.
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