Monday, September 19, 2016

MOHS For The Nose, Baby

It's pronounced "moze".

Ok, they got all that nasty shit out of my back.

Dr. Feelgood called last week to say they dug all the cancer out. So that is a good thing.

Now I begin an intimate relationship with a dermatologist. Long term.

Gotta see her every three months for the next two years; every six months for three years after that.

I am OK with that. For one thing it will give me peace of mind knowing an expert is checking me thoroughly on a regular basis.

In addition it will inspire me to lose weight.

In the last month so many people inspected my bloated, aged body that it was embarrassing. I vowed that I would lose fifteen pounds when I semi-retired; instead I gained five. I failed to take into consideration the workouts I was getting at the Booze Emporium.

Now I gotta lose 20.

What the hell; we all need inspiration.

My goal is that at the end of five years or hopefully before, the dermatologist will say when I remove my shirt "Oh my, you have the body of a 21 year old."

I don't think that is too unrealistic.

On to phase two. I got some cancer in my nose. Apparently not too scary. Squamous cell carcinoma.

It is a cancer that occurs in the skin's upper layers, hanging around threatening to get more serious if you apathetically ignore it.

I caught it, Dr. Feelgood #2 is gonna shave it off next week. 09/27.

MOHS surgery is a procedure where they shave a small amount of skin off the diseased area and then run down to the lab to see if they got all the cancerous cells. If they did I am done. If not they shave a little more.

It is a slow process. They told me to plan on being there for two to four hours. That is one to three hours longer than it took to hack that shit out of my back.

And apparently I will look goofy when I leave, big bandage on the nose, Nurse Ratched said wearing my glasses will be a challenge.

The reason for the procedure is to cause as little disfigurement as possible. I was told I may require plastic surgery on the nose afterwards.

Personally, I have been living with El Grande Testa family nose all my life. If they chop it down a little bit, maybe make me look more like a movie star than a gangster, I won't mind.

August and September have been fascinating months for me. Been through a lot, learned a lot including a lesson or two, warped around my thinking a little in a positive way.

Turned me into a vampire.

Now when the sun hits my face I shy away.

Life is a bizarre son of a bitch.

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