Skip to main content

If You See A Spot On Your Nose

If you see a spot on your nose you'll probably call the dermatologist.

The nurse will hand you a gown and tell you to take off all your clothes but you'll be cold so you'll keep your socks on.

Then the dermatologist will come in, take one look at you and say, "Oh, I do not like that at all!" before she even officially starts the exam.

Then she'll repeat it three times while you're standing in front of her, naked, while she looks over your entire body with a magnifying glass.

Then you'll feel awkward as she slips your socks off so she can look between your toes.

Then you'll apologize for having your socks still on and get bright red when it suddenly dawns on you that no one has ever slipped your socks off before and then you'll keep talking because when you feel socially awkward of course it makes total sense to you to say If I'd known you were inspecting me this thoroughly I would've taken out my toe jam. And my belly button lint.

And then you'll stand there praying for lightening to strike you because the awkward silence is deafening and the nonresponse is humiliating.

Then you'll be told that you have to have the spots removed: two on your nose and one on your right butt cheek.

But they'll wait with the butt cheek because the spot on your nose is concerning and it needs to be removed right away.

Then they'll tell you that the other room is better equipped for this type of procedure so could you please move.

And you'll hobble down the hall carrying your purse and your clothes (hoping you don't drop your bra or panties) while trying to keep the back of the gown from flopping open and also attempting to maintain some sense of decorum.

After you're settled in the new room they'll give you a shot in your nose.

And it'll hurt like hell.

But you won't cry because you're in too much shock.

Then they'll press on the side of your nose with a medical cookie cutter leaving you with a gaping wound that is bleeding profusely.

And then you'll have to lay still while they stitch you up.

And you'll probably think I never want to do this ever again right before remembering you have another spot on the other side of your nose that has to be removed so you actually will be doing that again.

And then you'll get another shot in your nose.

And it'll hurt like hell.

But worse than that will be when they attempt to take your skin off and you realize that you're not actually numb yet.

So you'll get another shot.

And that'll hurt like hell.

And then they'll try to take your skin again but surprise! you're still not numb.

So they'll come at you with another needle.

And you will curse them because it still won't work.

And then you will cry.

And the doctor will suggest doing this another time.

And then you'll shock yourself with your hearty like hell we'll do this again response.

So they try to numb you one last time.

And it either works or you just passed out from the pain but suddenly it's done.

And you're light headed but alive.

But then they might have trouble stopping the bleeding with this one.

So they'll try to cauterize it.

Which is a fancy word for burn the hell out of your face.

And the smell will make you sick but you won't notice that until after the nurse peels you off the ceiling because holy hell you felt that, too, and you'll know that electrocautery is nothing to mess around with.

But that still doesn't stop the bleeding and you'll hear them use words like unusual and abnormal and concerned.

Then they'll pour some chemical on the bleeding wound and you're immediately transported back to your childhood when your masochistic mother poured iodine and peroxide on every open wound you ever had, but you've got to admit the bubbling from the peroxide was pretty cool.

Finally, right before you pass out, they'll slap a bandage on your nose and tell you to call if it doesn't stop bleeding in an hour.

On your way out you'll think to ask, "so, they'll test this? For what exactly?"

And your doctor will reply with, "Worse case scenario, melanoma but we'll be able to tell what stage it's at when the results come back and be able to come up with a treatment plan, so I don't want you to worry. Make sure you make an appointment to have those stitches removed in a week."

Then you'll call your sister on the ride home and force her to listen to all the gory details even though it kind of makes her sick to her stomach but she'll be cool and keep your kid overnight so you can sleep with a package of frozen peas on your beak.


Rebecca said…
So, I'm not the only one who folds the bra and panties neatly in between the shirt and pants making sure they're not peeking out because surely my doctor has never seen bras or panties before and, well, this is a family environment, who cares what part of my body the doctor happens to be looking at? Phew!

PS - I was told that the anesthetic they use to numb the nose actually makes you bleed more and the nose bleeds a lot as it is, so if you had that many shots it's no wonder they had a hard time stopping it.
Ouch. I get the full body cavity search, but nothing cut off yet. I'm glad you went and got it looked at. My mother-in-law has melanoma. It's not good.
Chiconky said…

Though now, the one on your ass will seem like a walk in the park.

Fingers crossed for the best, BTW.
Becca said…
OMG, I am squirming around on my couch just reading this. I cannot imagine. Best of luck with the results. It's good you got yourself checked out.
Mary said…
Yikes! And good luck with the testing.
Getrealmommy said…
Hey, I really hope it all turns out well. Sorry you had to go through this. Sounds like HELL.
Anonymous said…
So, basically what you are saying is that it was super fun and enjoyable and everyone should go get this done. I mean, that's waht I got from it. Right?

Well, at least you got a kid-free night out of it. Brightside?

Hope it all turns out ok. Now you get to look forward to them stabbing you in the butt. Yay?
Brenna said…
You are adorable even with a flayed nose. You saw a spot and you went, and I hope you're not spinning worst case scenarios because I think it's in the agreement before they give doctors their degrees that they have to scare the shit out of someone at least three times per week to continue being certified. If it helps at all, my sister had several melanomas and was and is, 10 years later, fine. But chances are, the doctor was just fulfilling his professional obligation.

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot

The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…