Thursday, August 21, 2008

Connect The Dots, La, La, La, La

I'm having a problem with acne lately. I had a nice, big, red pimple smack dab in the middle of my two eyebrows. It was really lovely. Upon closer inspection of it, I realized that I really had to tweeze the stray hairs around there. Ugh. I've never waxed my eyebrows in my life, and now this? Stray hairs that could one day connect to make a unibrow? NOT GOOD.

So that zit left town. But now I have one, literally directly under it, on the underside of my lower lip. And it's a goodie. By goodie I mean that it's a whitehead that isn't quite ready to be popped, but once it is ready, it'll be one satisfying mothereffer.

I just feel gross.

Monday, August 18, 2008

I've Become a Coke Addict

Coca-Cola, that is. And not that diet shit either.

I prided myself on not drinking soda. And now I need the caffeine. Does that make me weak?

Friday, August 15, 2008

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Why I'm Now On Crazy Pills

So at the beginning of July, I had a mole removed from my right shoulder. It hadn't been there forever, and I would freak out about it on and off. So finally, I decided to stop being such a baby and get it removed. My doctor didn't think that it was anything to worry about, but he sent it for biopsy anyway since that's what dermos do when they remove any skin growth.

Fast forward a week, which is also my first day back at work. I get a call from the dermo's assistant, who tells me that the lab called and my mole came back as 'atypical.' Which means it had to get sent for more tests at another lab so that they could determine exactly what 'atypical' meant. I freaked out on the assistant, and repeatedly asked her if I was going to die. She assured me that I wasn't going to die, and I calmed down.

Fast forward two weeks from that day, when I get a call from said assistant again. She said that the doctor wanted me to come back in to have more skin taken from around where the mole was taken because they want to make sure it's all gone. She told me that what I had was benign, though.

So, fine. I go back to the dermo, who shows me the pathology report from my mole. It said that my mole had characteristics of this one specific kind of growth, but that there could be a component of melanoma. Well. I went bananas. I cried. I asked if I was going to die. I kept saying, "I'm a new mother. Am I going to die?" They repeatedly - and I mean repeatedly - assured me that I would not die from this. Even if it was melanoma, it was caught very early. And since the lab couldn't even definitively say that it was melanoma, it most likely was not. The doc said that the lab had to put that in the report to cover themselves just in case.

Well. I was beside myself for a week. I couldn't eat. I couldn't be alone. I couldn't focus at work. I was a wreck. I called the dermo's assistant a couple of times to have her tell me that I wasn't going to die. She did. She was very sweet. I heart her totally.

I visited my primary care physician because I was such a wreck that I had to go on psychotropic drugs. She prescribed them and assured me that she thought everything would be fine.

I visited my acupuncturist for some calming effects. She was great. I heart her totally.

And then the dermo's assistant called to tell me that what I had removed was in fact benign. I could have grabbed her through the phone and kissed her. WHEW. But I still need those drugs.

And the moral of the story is twofold. First, always, always, always wear sunscreen and don't use tanning beds. And, if you see a mole that looks funny, get it checked out as soon as possible.

Thank you.