Saturday, July 14, 2007

Hello Kitty Band-Aids for Brave Girls

I have plenty more to say about quitting smoking and Chantix, and I might get to it, but it won't be right now.

Getting to leave work a little early on a Friday always makes me smile, even if it's for a doctor's visit, maybe even for a dentist visit, depending. I was going to have something checked out at the dermatologist.

Sidenote: That dermatologist referral was made on the day I was at the Chantix appointment over a month ago (the Chantix appointment that it also took me a month to get). Sorry, can't resist mentioning stuff like that after watching SiCKO (if you haven't, watch SiCKO for free in two parts without need to download stuff here and here) because the idea that patients in America with health insurance - even decent health insurance (I consider mine, Kaiser, "decent" since it actually covers Chantix which is rare) - are not currently waiting around for appointments is complete bullshit because I did and we are. OK rant over for now.

Anyway, back to the dermatologist. She was actually really, really wonderful, and I wish she could be my primary doc because I haven't found one. I was expecting she'd just look and say nah, no big deal, but she didn't, and even after I swore to myself that I wouldn't let them do any cutting again (2 years ago they did a shave biopsy, and it wasn't bad, but it's more the thought of it that grosses my mind out), my doc was just awesome enough that I agreed to let her do the punch biopsy this time on this crazy blue nevus that apparently doesn't behave the way they expect and also magically returned. If you've ever had anything even remotely similar done, you probably know that this is all really actually no big deal. Certainly not even worthy of its own blog post.

Unless you are me. For me, this kind of thing is a very big deal. I don't like needles. At all. More than that, I really have a strong aversion to having any piece or part of my body physically removed from my body, especially by someone else, and even more especially if it involves first using a needle to numb my whiny crybaby ass. So after my initial protesting and my doc's urging that it really would be a good idea, I agreed. Tom was waiting in the wings just in case because I don't always act my age and am a very lucky girl, so he came in with me to hold my chicken wing, I mean hand. I thought I was freaking out, but apparently some people are much, much worse, according to Tom. I mean, I guess other than saying in all truthfulness but in a joking way that I wasn't all that in love with needles and that the idea of being cut wasn't my favorite thought, I didn't really do anything as hysterical as what I was feeling inside, and I let them do their icky thing. When they were done, I congratulated them on their lucky day that I didn't even pass out on them.

Tom called me brave since we've both often talked about courage having zero to do with absence of fear but everything to do with walking through something in spite of the fear. Kind of like quitting smoking and a host of other things in life - it's scary, but I'm doing it anyway even if I have a choice not to. Maybe it's kind of silly and overkill on the sappy or conceit or something to talk about it this way for such a simple little thing that's really no big deal, but honestly, for me it was scary. Even though it truly is most likely nothing (I've read these usually are, but my doc said mine is really not quite "normal" - me, not normal, go figure), the connection in my mind of having a biopsy on anything at all so soon after quitting smoking is just kind of eerie.

So, anyway, I'm a brave girl, and since I have to keep it covered at least until the stitches come out in 2 weeks and probably another week or two after, I treated myself to some Hello Kitty Band-Aids on the way to see Spiderman 3 at the cheap theater, which was my treat to Tom for being so damn supportive to me when I'm doing scary and difficult stuff. I actually enjoyed the movie quite a bit even though it's something I wouldn't have seen on my own, and since it lasted forever, I was very grateful that I'm not a smoker who had to go smoke during a good part or fidget for two and half hours. Knowing that I get to wear Hello Kitty Band-Aids for the next several weeks almost makes it all worth it, though it just might heal faster without smoking. That would be OK, too.

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