The Surgery is Over

On Monday, I was notified of my hernia surgery time. It started as an arrival time of 11:30 am. About 30 minutes later, it was changed to 9:00 as the arrival time. I set my alarm to 4:30 am, and went to bed at around 10:30 pm. 

The alarm woke me at 4:30, and I ran the snoozes out. I was out of bed a little before 5:00, checked the radar, and saw the tropical storm had strengthened a little. The new track was showing a bullseye on where I was having surgery, and would be coming ashore at somewhere around 2:00 in the afternoon. Theoretically, that would be somewhere around the time I would be arriving home. 

My wife, and I, arrived at the hospital early, and the check-in was complete at 9:00 am. There was no long wait before they took me to be prepped, which gave me the hope the surgery would be started as soon as the one ahead of me was finished. 

Prep involved the usual questions, putting in an IV, taking off everything, putting on a gown, and something I didn't expect: shaving the lower stomach and groin. Some questions to the nurse revealed this was sometimes done in the surgery room, but since it expedited the surgery, some doctors preferred it being complete before the patient was wheeled in for surgery. The nurse explained some doctor preferred to shave the patients. I'm guessing that ensured not having to increase an area to be shaved, or extra time to finish a shave they find incomplete. The nurse had me pull up my gown, and went to work. I told my wife this will make it appear as though I have crabs when the hair starts growing back. The nurse smiled, and I thought of how past experiences of shaving my beard left some days where the itch of the hair growing back could be maddening.

The surgeon came in a few minutes later, explained the procedure, marked where the surgery would be performed on my groin, and signed the marking. He also explained his surgery room had some type of A/C problem, which was delaying my surgery. My wife asked how long should the surgery take. He answered it would probably take about an hour and a half after the A/C is repaired. 

After the doctor left, another nurse came in and told me the delay could be extended if the warmer temperature caused the instruments to condensate. If that happened, they would have to replace all of them, which would further the delay. She, also, told me to go pee. I told her I didn't think I had any in me, but she said to try anyway. This made me think the delay could be long.

After squeezing out some pee, I returned to the prep room and told my wife she could leave if she wanted. At this point in any surgery, it's a waiting game. They would call when I was in recovery, and she already had my wallet. The nurse told her my clothes would follow me to recovery, so it gave my wife a break from basically just watching me wait. She would be more comfortable downstairs where there was a coffee/bakery shop, and plenty of comfortable seats. My wife asked the nurse if she had any idea how long the surgery would be delayed. The nurse guessed at least thirty minutes, so my wife decided to leave. I told her she had time to run some errands if she wanted, and she could get something to eat. The nurse told my wife I would be placed in an initial recovery room on the second floor. After they felt I was stable, they would transfer me to a ground floor room to prepare me for leaving. They would come for her at that time for final instructions, and from there I would be wheeled out to an adjacent drive where outpatient surgery patients are picked up.

It wasn't long before they came for me. They wheeled me down some corridors, and I knew we were close to the surgery room by the cooler air. When the door was opened, a blast of cold air let me know my surgery would soon start. I heard the anesthetist state it was 11:30. 

They shifted me out of the gurney onto the table, hooked up my IV, put a mask over my face, and gave me the "I don't care" injection. After that, I don't remember much, except some pretty severe pain in the downstairs recovery room and the nurse giving some more morphine. After that, I don't remember getting dressed, but I do remember the nurse getting rained on putting me in the car. It was 2:00 pm, and tropical storm Edouard was officially coming ashore about 50 miles to the southeast. The first rain bands were arriving. 

We drove out of the rain before reaching home. We stopped for some potato soup at Schlotzsky's. I wasn't really hungry, but would be later.  It was a few hours before the heavy rain arrived, but it didn't take long for the rain to start. I was feeling drowsy, so I went to lay down for a short nap. I napped for a few minutes before the first torrential blast of rain arrived. The sound of it on the side of the house woke me, so I got up to watch the weather. I made a cup of coffee. I remarked to my wife how it was one of the best cups of coffee I've ever had. Within minutes, it came back up while I was in the kitchen. Needless to say, in my condition, I wasn't much help in cleaning the mess. My apologies seemed hollow with such an occurrence. It was too soon to eat.

It rained for at least an hour, and didn't let up. The wind was probably a steady 35 mph, with gusts to 50 mph. After the heavy rain stopped, we had hours of light rain, and windy conditions. The rain finally ended at around dusk, but radar showed a band on the southeast side of the storm approaching. It arrived after dark, and the thunderstorms trained around the storm, which had stopped moving. I don't know how much rain we received in the second batch, but it was at least as much as the first round of rain, and my rain gauge was full the next morning. Just north of us received up to 20 inches, but judging from the water around my house, we were somewhere around 10 inches of rain. 

Somewhere during the first rain band, I tried a small helping of Jell-O, with some potato soup. It stayed down, but the hiccups started. My wife decided to go to bed. I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up to watch the weather, and to deal with the hiccups. They would stop for awhile, but soon start again if I so much as sipped water. To add insult to injury, the electricity would blip every few hours. I'd wait a few minutes to see if it would stay on, turn the television back on, and reset the clocks.  

Eventually, at around daybreak, the pain became more than I wanted to deal with, so I took a Tramadol. It stayed down, and it wasn't long before the hiccups stopped. The rain bands had moved north, and it didn't appear they would spiral back into our area. I finally went to bed, and slept until about 11:00 am. 

I'd forgotten the pain after my gallbladder was removed. Quick moves are a no-no, and sitting is more of a sliding into a chair motion. It's there, off and on, and will be there for days. After a week is should ease off enough to remind me I'm far from healed. Attempts at pulling, or lifting, will give me harsh reminders to not get into too much of a hurry. I'll return for a checkup in two weeks. As it appears right now, it will be good. I have no bruising, the three cuts for the instruments are showing no signs of infection, and I know I won't miss the hernia. Hopefully, I'll never have another. 

Robotic Surgery

Since my hernia surgery is impending, I've spent some time examining the procedures, my surgeon's qualifications, and found robotics will be used for my surgery. It's a laparoscopic procedure, but instead of the surgeon manipulating instruments manually, they use 3D imaging, and robotic instruments are manipulated as the surgeon operates at a console. It's like the robotic deep sea ROV's without the currents, curious fish, and the possibility of a large wave influencing the operation. I'm hoping my surgeon has a good night's sleep before the procedure, and nobody creeps up behind him and pops a balloon while he's working. 

Waiting is the Hardest Part

My hernia surgery is scheduled for September 1. I wanted it sooner, but the surgeon is booked. While my hernia isn't a constant source of pain, I have good, and bad, days with on all days, I can feel it. I've found weed-whacking is hardest on the hernia, so that has to be metered out, instead of all on one day. Why this is so hard on the hernia is beyond my understanding. Lifting doesn't bother it at all. 

A brother-in-law found out his chest pain, and shortness of breath, will require a heart valve replacement. He's been haphazard with medication for his hypertension over the years, and it finally caught up with him. From what I know, that type of surgery has far fewer risks than even a decade ago, and after recovery, lead to decades of life afterward....if the patient is willing to go through the paces required to keep healthy habits. Whether that happens is to be seen. His siblings are worried. Me? Not really. It's up to him, and the wake-up call should be a stern warning. 

The heat has been steady, but the three digit highs have mostly been avoided. We're not in official drought, but if we don't get some substantial rain, we will be. The trees are already showing signs they're becoming stressed, and the yard is starting to have some dead spots. 

Local cities are making noises about budget shortfalls, and the possibility of tax increases. This translates into a guarantee of higher taxes, and with property values decreasing with age, and the fact people are moving out of the city limits, the main problem of excess spending will never be handled. All cities are run mostly by those that shouldn't be allowed to run a watermelon stand. 

The dog star is peeking above the horizon right before sunrise, so the dog days of summer are officially here. It won't be long before that real cold front passes through, and I can have some relief from the high electric bills that come during the summer.

Tomorrow morning early, I plan on cleaning my outside AC coils. Cutting the yard, and the dust it creates, have made the cleaning necessary. It shouldn't take long, and my air conditioner should be more efficient.

Wear and Tear

I spent the other day mowing, some weed-whacking, and nothing much else. None of it was strenuous, but I was getting some sharp occasional pains around my belt-line. I've had a small hernia for a few years, and it never bothered me, until then. Since it was Thursday, and my doctor is off on Friday, I called for an appointment. They fit me in, and  gave me one at 10:30 am with a nurse practitioner, so off I went. 

I'll be scheduled for a CT scan, and a visit to a surgeon. While the hernia isn't bothering me today, if it should become worse, I'm on the path to what is now just a day surgery. I'm pushing 70 years old, and the longer I wait, the chances of complications increase. It will put me semi-out of condition for about 6 weeks, but after that, I should be running on 8 cylinders again. 

I'm guessing my years of hard labor work, such as lifting heavy concrete forms, bags of cement products, concrete finishing, and other things that lead to hernias has finally caught up with me. It's wear, and tear, and time to get it fixed. 

After the Procedure

After 40 hours with only little Jell-O in my system, almost a gallon of water mixed with a witches-brew of glycols, with salts, my colonoscopy is over. I was supposed to drink the entire gallon, but I had to quit at around the last sixteen ounces. The stuff is brutal to drink, regardless of what anyone tells you. I did learn from a nurse that there is another way, which uses over the counter laxatives and water. She said it yields the same results, and is approved by the doctor that performed my colonoscopy. That's a good thing. 

The prep was a little different than the last procedure. One week stop on some medications, (blood thinners and such) three days without seeds, vegetables, and anything that is slow leaving the colon; one day clear liquids only; and a start at 4:00 pm with the prep liquid. Eight ounces every thirty minutes until the first half gallon is gone. Repeat the procedure starting at 10:00 pm, which leads to prepping to 1:30 am, and draining over the next few hours. With my 8:00 show up time, that left time for a cat-nap.

The results were good. No polyps, some diverticulosis (an inherited things according to the doctor) and a 7 year respite until the next procedure. That was welcome news, and according to the photos provided by the doctor, my colon is as shiny as a new car. I'm impressed. Then again, it was power washed twice in the last twelve hours before the procedure. As I told my wife before the second half: "The wash is over, but now it's time for the rinse cycle."

So it's over, I'm happy with the results, and with my calcium scan two weeks ago, I'm in good health for now. That test revealed no plaque in my heart, and a zero risk of heart disease. I'll take both, continue my bastardized health regimen, and go on as best as I can. The good lord has taken me this far for a reason, and it's up to me to continue.

They Moved My Appointment

My new appointment time for my colonoscopy is Monday the 18th at 8:00 am show-up time. It's a new place for me, but the doctor has the same name as a gastroenterologist that treated me during my gall-bladder fiasco in 2009. Maybe it's the same doctor, but I don't think so. He looks too young, so I have the feeling he's following in his father's footsteps to peer into the colons of patients. 

I will have to drink a gallon of a liquid that remarkably tastes like what I envision as the taste of battery acid. Truthfully, at the end of the gallon, I will probably again have the feeling I did drink a gallon of battery acid. I've done this before, and from what I've heard, the pills that do the same thing are not being used any longer due to incomplete cleaning. So, it's a gallon of liquid split over hours of sitting, and cleansing. 

Thinking about this, I remember a Dave Berry column about his procedure. Here it is for you enjoyment. 

Link

Nutrition and Health

I was thinking about nutrition, and health, while I was eating breakfast this morning. It led to some thoughts.

Who do you go to for health? Your doctor? Which one? The one that pushes a special diet? The one that prescribes all the new medications? The one told you to get the Covid vaccine? You have to choose, but which one is best?

What about nutrition? Which diet is best? The Mediterranean diet? The Atkins diet? The diet that is included with the nutrition drink? The fasting diet? The vegan diet? You have to choose, and you have friends that swear by one, or the other, but regardless of either, your realize some are too expensive, or you can't stand the foods on the diet, or the supplemental powder you're supposed to drink has a texture that reminds you of powdered sheetrock. 

What about scientists? They tell you some foods are good for you, until they're not, and then they're good again, but you can't have coffee, or tea, unless they're now considered beneficial for your mental acuity, or digestion, or blood sugar, or decreases the effects of aging. Vitamins are shown to be beneficial, or not, since too much of one can lead to problems, and some interfere with the medications that scientists demand are necessary to prevent high cholesterol, or hypertension, or mental health, or whatever the initials mean on commercials that tell you to ask you doctor about, but you have no idea what they're supposed to treat. 

It's said that some of the fresh fruits, and vegetables, you buy in the grocery store lack the benefits of ripened foods because they're harvested too soon to guarantee they'll be able to be shipped, and have a pleasing look in the store. That, and to enhance color, chemical, or gases are used for a pleasing result. Some might have pesticide residue, or is covered with a thin polymer to decrease exposure to gases that cause browning. So, buy the frozen stuff is recommended, because it has more of the nutrients, but keep in mind freezing can degrade the nutritional value. 

Remember, the oils you eat may have been initially designed as industrial lubricants, but even the best of oils, like avocado, or olive, can be ruined by cooking at too high of a heat. Butter is bad, or not, but may be. Seed oils are deadly, or are they?

Beef isn't good for you, or not. The same for pork. Chicken is good, but may be tainted with steroids, or antibiotics. Fish is good, but not if cooked at too high of a temperature. You can eat it raw, or not, and laws require it to be frozen to kill parasites, or treated for the same reason, and in some circumstances, it can kill you. 

Alcohol is bad, unless it's a certain wine in small quantities, unless a new study reveals this is false. Hard liquor is deadly, or not, if in moderation.

One report I once read (No, I don't have a link, and I'm too lazy to look it up) stated obesity is as bad, or may be worse, than an unhealthy diet, or smoking. Is this true? Ask a scientist, or a doctor, or a friend, or even better: look it up on the internet. There will you will find it's bad for you, unless you're older, and carrying a little extra weight can help with long term illnesses that can deplete necessary fat for survival. GLP1's are solving the problem of obesity, but the long term effects may include damage to the liver or the pancreas. That, and may cause permanent changes to digestion.

So, what can one do? I don't know, but do know my grandfather ate some type of meat at every meal, fried, or not. He ate much of what came from his garden, smoked cigarettes, cigars, and smoked a pipe. It depended on the moment. He'd take a nip of bourbon in the morning, and walked many miles on a golf course while selling real estate and insurance. He lived until he was 98 years old. He was never overweight, and he never worried about anything he couldn't do anything about. Was his lifestyle the secret of longevity and good health? I don't know, but I do know I miss him, and would listen to any advice he had to offer, while we shared an afternoon while drinking a beer. Oh. I forgot to mention he drank beer too. We'd bring some when we went fishing.

Today's Thoughts

I'm not happy about the prices of fuel. Foreign governments meddled in the world market with politics that are destructive, corrupted the supply chain, and future oil prices reacted accordingly. Regardless of our supply, there's more money to make for producers somewhere else, and if we don't buy it at their price, they really don't care about the financial burden it causes.  

The other night, right after sunset, I saw a brilliant object to the west. My first thought was it was a weather balloon, since it was north of west; seemingly too far north of the ecliptic, but when the light on a weather balloon would have faded, this object stayed bright. A little research showed it was Venus, and it's quite a sight in the evening sky. 

Local cities, and school districts, regardless of performance, are pandering for more money. To add insult to injury, the largest local city's school district has been placed in conservatorship. The grades are terrible, and the students can be violent. Both cities, and schools, have managed to pad the salaries, pensions, and bureaucracy, but failed in maintaining the goals of providing a public service. Such things make me glad I moved to a rural county, where the city of the county seat didn't elect any incumbents in the last election. That tells more than is apparent, and a dissatisfaction that demanded changes. Property tax pushbacks are common here, and keeping the rates lower attracts those wanting to flee the cities. Hopefully, they don't bring ignorance, and stupidity to the county. We have enough of that without any help.

The Iran thing is becoming something that demands decisive actions. This walking on egg shell approach only emboldens those that have fomented (and outright financed) terror against the United States for decades. The old "I'll kill you since you tried to kill me" approach usually works well, but has more results when you eliminate the financers and their banks. That, and removing their income source, which in this situation, means destroying Iran's ability to produce oil. They have an island that fuels supertankers and I'm willing to bet bombing it into another century will end the problems. Maybe not, but it's worth a try.

Weather has been dry, wet, dry, and now looks like it's going to be more wet. The grass, and the pekin ducks, will thrive. The grass I can eventually cut. As far as the ducks, my thoughts on that problem don't set well in the neighborhood. Maybe I should find a way to pen them up and give them to anyone that wants them. They are a bane to my wife's peace of mind, since they tear up plantings, and leave big divots in the yard. I find them to be nasty, horny, and loud creatures that have no real purpose other than food. 

I have a colonoscopy scheduled for next week. This will be my third one over the last fifteen years. The last one revealed two benign polyps that put me in the high risk category, which means a colonoscopy every three years. That, and since my brother died from colon cancer, even if no polyps are found, I'm still in the high risk category. Prepping is never an enjoyable task, and my wife isn't happy she has to drive me to the procedure. She says my back-seat driving is irritating. I guess it is. I have no real defense against her assertion, so my best bet is sleep, and keep my mouth shut on the way home...but we'll have to stop for something to eat. I'll be quiet as I munch on my first meal to break the long fast required for the procedure.

Two weeks in the future brings my bi-annual trip to my dermatologist. Liquid nitrogen will probably be used in copious amounts, and I'll pray I don't need any biopsies. I've learned to not say anything to family members about their exposure to the sun. They can learn like I did, and I wonder if they'll be thinking about my warnings in the future. Hopefully not. I'd rather them go through life without dealing with skin cancer.

I won't complain about the cost of just about everything. I can't do anything about it, except adjust my budget, and maybe: buy a few lottery tickets. The odds of winning that are much better than positive actions after voicing my complaints in a well written letter to my representatives. 

I supposed to have two carburetors arriving today for a weed whacker and a leaf blower. Both were neglected over time, and fiddling with both has yielded only the realization they will never run without new carburetors. Both have fire, and good compression, so they should be in top shape after the replacements. I'll cross my fingers. 

I Think There Will Be More Of This

Some people don't want any donated blood from those that received certain injections.  I understand the concern, and the supposed research only makes me more suspicious of some researchers and doctors. Too many jumped on board with sometimes incomplete testing by pharmaceutical companies, and injected (and still inject) patients even with other research pointing to dangerous, permanent contraindications with the process. With Covid, there was no reason for many to receive any inoculation, but regardless of what research showed, the results were hidden, and there were billions of dollars made on a product that had the potential to kill more people than the illness it was supposed to prevent. 

There are millions of healthy older adults that probably only had DPT boosters when they were young. Not so today. Dozens of injections are given to the young, and some research shows there may be a correlation between the injections and health problems. Of course, there's a huge market for the medications, and it's advantageous in the near term to promote the product. Time, honest research, and education may show the foolishness of this process. The past is full of peddlers that have "miraculous" results from their products, and I have no doubt many of the companies selling their products are more concerned about their bottom dollar instead of the ultimate consequences of their actions. 

Things you Forget

Yesterday, while minding my own business, and without any warning, a bee stung me on the forehead. I was wearing a cap, and something felt strange on my forehead, so I reached to feel what it was, felt something, and was instantly stung. I never saw what stung me. 

How did I know it was a bee? The stinger was still there, when I looked in the mirror. A tug with some tweezers released the barbs, and the last action of a bee was revealed. 

I've been stung many times. When I was young, the result was some alarming swelling, and a trip to the doctor when a sting on my leg left red streaks. Of all the stings, I've luckily never been stung by a hornet. From what I know, the pain is much worse, and the after-effects more severe.

This one was a little different, since I've never been stung on the forehead. After the initial burning sting, the pain was more than I've ever felt, and I can only describe as the same as being hit with a heavy object. For a few minutes, I wondered if I needed to go to an emergency room, but the pain lessened enough to ease my alarm.

I took an antihistamine, let it go to work, and took about a three hour nap. When I awoke, the ache was mostly gone, but still there enough to know I'd been stung. 

This morning, the site is still a little red, and swollen. The ache is gone, and it will probably start itching before it finally heals. I'll have to be more wary. Bees are hungry this time of the year, and can be bothersome.

Ravages of the Sun

Yesterday, I went to my biannual visit to my dermatologist. As usual, there were things to hit with the liquid nitrogen, which left some places to eventually scab over and fall off. It's the fruits of my youth, and according to my doctor, probably the result of a severe sunburn I was afflicted with when I was young. I can pinpoint the sunburn. I received it when I was about 10 years old, and it left huge water blisters that eventually peeled. The pain was barely tolerable, and can best be described as second degree burns over 75% of my body. It wasn't an even trade off for a day at the beach.

I don't think many people realize the sun emits ultraviolet radiation that is destructive. Like all ionizing radiation, it destroys cells, and cuts DNA like a knife. The result is mutations, and with me, these mutations result in seborrheic keratosis, basic cell carcinomas, and melanoma. Most are only unsightly, and annoying, but melanoma is deadly. I've been lucky with only one melanoma that was stage zero at removal.  

I now wear hooded, long sleeve shirts, with a hat and gloves, when I venture out in the sun. I should have worn the same during my years of working in the sun, but youth, and ignorance, led to where I am today. My ignorance is now my sentence, and I will deal with this until I'm gone. 

A Question for Doctors and NP's

When I was young, a visit to the doctor was and annual occurrence. at most, for a DPT booster...if something like a broken bone, or stitches, wasn't required. I remember four events that required a special visit. One was for stitching up my chin after trying to tight-rope walk on a bassinet. One was for a broken finger while playing dodge ball, one was for addressing red streaks running up my leg after being stung by a wasp, and one was for being knocked out, with a concussion, while playing softball in gym. Bad scrapes, cuts that didn't cause large open wounds, colds, flu, measles, mumps, and chicken pox were handled at home without a visit to the doctor. A visit to the ER was out of the question. That was for life-threatening events, which was decided by parents, emergency personnel, and finances. 

Today, people go to urgent care, or emergency rooms, for things not contemplated as requiring such things in the past. A visit to either shows people ratchet-jawing on their phone as they wait for the doctor, or nurse practitioner. Very sick children I can understand, but when they're fidgeting, complaining, and don't show any sign of severe malaise, or injury, I wonder if there is really a necessity for the visit. That brings me to my question: What percentage of visits are medically necessary, and what percentage could have been handled at home, with over the counter medications? It seems the percentage is probably too high for unnecessary visits, but that's just an opinion.

New Eye Glasses

 I've worn glasses for years. They correct for astigmatism, and seeing closely. I've always worn progressive lens glasses, until this time. I decided on bifocals, which don't require finding the "sweet spot" for whatever is being observed. It's a change, and typing at the computer now requires my readers. I can use the bifocals, but they cause an unnatural tilting of my head, and I'm finding the neck strain I would have is gone. Also, my peripheral vision is better. I don't have to turn my head as far to see side road traffic. That would exacerbate my sore neck. Still it's a change, but in the next few years, my ophthalmologist thinks cataract surgery will be required for my cataracts. As of now, I don't have the terrible night vision, or the dullness of light advanced cataracts can cause.  

The New Slush Fund?

 I've noticed the AARP is being pushed by the Hartford to attract clients. If I had to guess, the exposure of how AARP reaped billions from skimming a percentage of premiums from United Healthcare is either wanting them to get out from under the microscope, or the executives want a raise. It's a billion dollar slush fund, and substantially more than is taken in from membership. According to a news report I read, the partnership between AARP and United Healthcare is reaching the point of renewal (or not) this year, which would mean they find a new source of income, or possibly face scrutiny they don't want. Regardless, neither really cares much for seniors, although they do care for their Social Security, and Medicare, benefits. 

Update Photos

I'm posting these photos with the hope that parents will show them to their children that spend a lot of time in the sun. Lighter skin has a higher chance of cancer, but the ionizing radiation of the sun can damage all types of skin. In the end, Mohs procedure is the lesser of procedures when dealing with skin cancer. If it metastasizes, the extra treatments include chemo and radiation therapy. If it's melanoma, the chances of survival can be really low.

 

Update

I had my Moh's surgery this morning. I gave us 2 -1/2 hours to reach what should be a 1-1/2 hour trip. After dealing with a parking lot, when there was a wreck on US 90, and having to turn around to seek another route, we reached our destination with only four minutes to spare. I asked the receptionist if the 8:00 am appointment was hard to fill, she replied "it is". I can see why. Dealing with Houston rush hour traffic on the major highways, the interchanges, and the ass-clowns that drive like its Daytona in their trucks with the loud pipes, I can see where that time slot is not preferable. Those types need to be required to have a shock collar on their neck, which is activated by anyone that has the crap scared out of them, when they drive like idiots. 

Anyway, the surgeon stated my melanoma was Phase 0. The cancer was caught at the earliest stage and hadn't progressed into the lower skin levels. That was extremely good news, and my observation of my skin now needs to involve mapping my skin, which I will pursue with my dermatologist. If he isn't as aggressive with this, I'll find another dermatologist. 

I'll post photos of the divot he carved in my neck after I remove the initial bandages, which will probably be sometime tomorrow. I want to see the stitches, and count them like I usually do. Tonight I'll continue capturing the sleep I missed last night. I didn't get but a couple of hours, and my nap this afternoon was not sufficient  to recover the lost sleep. I do have some pain medication, if needed, but so far, there isn't any; even with the numbness now gone.

One good thing is that my dermatologist locally will remove the stitches, which will remove the need to participate in the madness called "rush hour" in Houston. I wouldn't wish that on many people, but probably would reserve some of that agony on people I don't care for. 

Deep Thoughts

I had my bi-annual appointment with my dermatologist a little over a week ago. As usual, there were some pre-cancers to be treated with liquid nitrogen, and with two spots of concern I showed my dermatologist, there were some biopsies. As an afterthought, and not of any concern of mine, I showed him a small mole on my neck that hadn't been there very long. He decided to go ahead and do a biopsy, and we decided my visits need to be every three months in the future. 

The day before yesterday, they called to inform me of the results. One of the areas was just an irritation from what was probably an ingrown hair. One, which was treated six months ago, and had reappeared turned out to be a squamous cell cancer (I figured it was) and another appointment was made to finish removing the cancer early next month. The mole result was a little of a gut punch. It's melanoma, which leads to an entire different approach. 

My Moh's surgeon doesn't handle melanoma. I never asked why, but when asked during a visit, she told me she doesn't do them. After a referral, I was contacted by a doctor's office in Houston for scheduling a surgery. That happens next Wednesday. 

So, to say I'm not a little freaked out is an understatement. My thoughts haven't been super positive; even with encouragement from my wife and family. We'll see how this all turns out, and what the future brings. I hope for the best, but other thoughts are creeping into my mind. Melanoma killed my mother three months after I was born. Of course, that was nearly seventy years ago, and treatments are far more advanced. Still, things may change rapidly, and my thoughts can shift into the darker range. 

I Don't Know What It Was, but It Kicked My Butt

I know it was a virus. What kind? Maybe a flu variant, or some other virus, but whatever it was, it made me sicker than I've been in decades. My fever lasted for a few days, and it finally broke with a torrent of sweat, which was an uncomfortable way to wake. Maybe it's my age, or maybe in the past I just soldiered on because work demanded, but this one is requiring doing nothing, resting when not resting, and letting my body heal. My stomach feels as though I tried to do 200 push-ups, which is the result of trying to cough up a lung. The cough is now productive, and the spells are few and far between. 

No, I didn't go to the doctor. I was one more night of unbroken fever from doing so, but saved from dealing with urgent care doctors, or nurse practitioners. They must have a playbook they follow that demands they keep Pfizer, and the other big boys in the money, regardless of how many people they kill. I'm getting to the point even talking to them is a nerve grating experience, and think they probably feel the same after dealing with me. 

So recovery is underway, I plan on doing nothing during the rest of the holidays, will probably sip some bourbon later during the recovery, and avoid any person that had contact with children, adults with children, or has seen them while driving past a school. They carry germs, and have no problem with sharing.

Here I Go Again

About two months ago, I noticed a spot on my hairline that seemed to be either a bite, or a pimple. It didn't go away, and grew quickly. My wife noticed it last month. It was time to go see my dermatologist. They made a quick appointment, a biopsy was completed, and a week later, I was notified it was a fast growing squamous cell cancer. They also told me the surgeon to do the Mohs procedure would call for an appointment in about two weeks. Due to a cancellation, they had an opening, which is today. So, I go for another surgery, which usually means a long incision, stitches and a new scar, although my surgeon is good, and the scars are hardly noticeable. 

Leaving after the appointment always make me wonder what people think of the huge bandage that obviously shows something invasive was done. I wear it for 48 hours, and change to a regular large adhesive bandage until the stitches are removed. I don't like it, but it's better than the cancer. 

This time, the surgeon was adamant about not waiting longer than six weeks for the surgery. I don't know if that's normal or something else prompted the statement. I'll soon know. 

Eye Trouble

About a week ago, my left eye felt as though a small particle was under the eyelid. I've had this happen before and felt it would probably come out why I slept. It didn't, although it was more of an annoyance. It didn't hurt, but I didn't like the feeling. I figured it was a hair, or some other particle that isn't abrasive, and it would take longer to finally work its way out. I tried washing my eye with an eye-wash solution in an eye cup, but it didn't change anything.

Saturday brought a different feeling. I felt a little pain, and when I touched that area of my eyelid, it caused pain. I told my wife, we loaded up, and went to an urgent-care facility to have someone take a look. 

The nurse practitioner placed a numbing drop, some dye, and looked to see if there was an abrasion or foreign object in my eye. They found nothing, but swabbed my eyelids for debris. With nothing found, they prescribed some antibiotic drops and recommend visiting an ophthalmologist if it became worse....it did. 

When the pain woke me at about 4:00 am Sunday morning, my eye was not only sore, light caused  the eye to adjust and it hurt like the dickens. I took some acetaminophen for the pain, and continued with the eye drops. My plan was to go to the doctor on Monday (if I could get an appointment) of go to an emergency room. If the pain became worse during the day, I'd bite the bullet and go spend way too much time in an emergency room and probably end up not seeing an ophthalmologist. It was bothersome, and painful, but it didn't become worse. Luckily, it was cloudy outdoors, and keeping my eye closed helped. I was wondering if going to urgent-care was that good of an idea. Where I had just a little redness before I went, my eye now looked my iris was swimming in a pool of blood.

This morning I called, found a doctor that would see me, and went to my appointment. I had no idea what was wrong, but knew only a doctor could make a good diagnoses. My wife, and I, left early, since it was raining and traffic could be terrible.

During the visit, the nurse examined my eye before the doctor came in. They couldn't find anything, and the light they used to examine closely caused pain like someone poking me in the eye. The doctor did the same, and to aggravate what already hurt, turned my eyelid up to see if there was something they missed. They didn't find anything and diagnosed iritis, which from what I've read, is a broad term for many underlying problems. The doctor also suggested it could be ocular arthritis, which can be something I'd have to live with, and could happen again. I was prescribed a steroid to add to my antibiotic drops and told to make another appointment ten days in the future, since the doctor would be out of town next week. That, and to return if the symptoms became worse. 

We picked up my prescription on the way home, and I started the steroids. After a few hours, I went to examine my eye in the mirror, and found something yellow by my tear-duct outside my eye. I wiped it on the end of my finger, went for the magnifying glass, and examined it with my wife. It appeared to be a tiny thin blade of yellow grass, or something similar, and very small. Judging how my eye is feeling much better, I'm thinking it was there all the time, all the manipulation of my eye lid finally loosened it, and the drops washed it from eye. I know it had been there since the beginning because the yellow was caused by the dye used for the examination.

So now, the redness is there, but fading quickly, light doesn't bother me anymore, and that feeling of something in my eye is almost gone. Whatever it was, and how it got there is a mystery, but I'm glad it's gone.