In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Don't Do This

Tomorrow, I'm having Mohs surgery on my scalp for basil cell cancer. It's the second time I've dealt with this type of cancer, but the first time for Mohs surgery, since my scalp is involved, and there's not much meat to trim away.

The last surgery for the cancer was on my cheek. Since there was plenty to carve, the dermatologist cut out a chunk around a quarter inch wide by an inch long. How deep they went I don't know, but it required several stitches.

Curious about the procedure, I looked it up and learned it requires removing small sections of skin, until microscopic examination shows there are no cancerous cells. Since it only requires deadening the area for the surgery, I'll be awake for the procedure, which lasts until it's done. How long will that be? Until it's done, and I'm hoping it won't take long.

Now for the reason for the title: Don't go looking for photos of the aftermath of the procedure on the internet, if you're to have this procedure. Not only are some of the photos ghastly, the amount of skin removed indicates some people had to have major reconstructive surgery to not look like something from a horror movie.

So, now I'm sufficiently concerned, and will be nervous when they start. Without any feeling, they might literally scalp me before it's finished....maybe they'll give me a sedative. I think I'll ask.


  1. Had 2 basil cell spots removed, both high on my forehead.

    Scar #1 looks like a bad case of road rash.

    Scar #2 looks like a drunk Zorro was trying to make me look like Harry Potter.

    Both times the doc released me to go back to work, if I wanted to. Uh, no, nope, nyet. The epilectic with the jackhammer that was pounding on my forehead told me to just go home. Fun being allergic to anything over Advil.

    Good luck, hope they don't dig too deep, and enjoy telling people that you were the one who won the fight, outa see the other guy...

    1. I'll post photos, when I feel a little better.

      The incision was deep, and skin removed to get the cancer cells. The initial hole was about the size of a quarter, but to loosen the skin to allow closing the wound required some more snipping.

      After 6 hours, I have no pain, but Novacain takes awhile to wear off with me, and I have usual lethargy I get when it's used as a local anesthetic.