About a month ago I noted that something was poking out of my nose. Not out of a nostril! That would be gross. The side of the nose. I thought it might be the start of a wart but it was a skinny little thing like a shoot of grass. I did not like it. I also did not like that it was tender to the touch. Wisely I went to my dermatologist so she could have a look-see. She looked, she saw, she did a biopsy. A day later the verdict came (that was fast). Cancer. That sounds quite dramatic and horrible and like staring death in the face. But it was more like a dash of cancer (trying not to be flip here) in a small area that was easily removed. The other side of the universe from the pancreatic cancer that felled two friends of mine. I would require something called Mohs Micrographic Surgery.
The next day I got a call scheduling the surgery for one week from that day. (Yes, this all happened very fast.) Yesterday was the surgery. If I’d blinked I’d have missed it. Literally lasted less than five minutes. The worst part was getting the shot to numb the nose and even that was just a little prick (something I believe I was once called — the little part of the insult was uncalled for). What it seemed the doctor did was to scoop out a tiny part of my nose. The extracted part was then given the once over in a lab that was right across the hall from my surgery. Meanwhile I waited. I finished listening to a podcast then read. It was an hour before the results were known. Cancer gone. Time to stitch me up. I’d been told that sometimes the cancer is not immediately extracted and they have to go in again and sometimes a third of fourth time. Lucky me, I was home a little over three hours after I left.
I now have a huge bandage on my nose which I get to remove tomorrow and replace with a regular tiny bandaid. I have to apply ice every so often to keep swelling down. Tylenol is recommended for pain but I’ve had little of that. I had to take it easy yesterday after I got home and all day today as well. Taking it easy is something at which I’m quite accomplished, so no problem.
Tomorrow I’ll be bouncing around again and Monday I’ll be back at the gym. Friday the stitches come out and it’ll all be forgotten.
I have learned the key to surviving until your 70th birthday and beyond and generally being in fine mettle is the following: good luck. I’ve had plenty. My friends who died of pancreatic cancer did not. So it goes.
It’s been an interesting six months. Getting Covid canceled Christmas for the wife and I. She fell and broke her leg canceling the majority of our planned vacation (all of hers). We’ve both had nasty colds recently. I lost a tooth yesterday and had my nose chopped into. Yet I remain ambulatory with the power of speech and my mental faculties seem intact. My wife’s leg will be completely healed by Summer’s end. Much to look forward to. But I’ve also learned that life is constantly throwing us curveballs. It can be damn annoying but if we’re lucky they only cost us a tiny piece of our nose.
No comments:
Post a Comment