Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Looking for Hay in a Needle Stack

           Here’s how my kids react to medical procedures.  First, the back story: Last week I had another breast biopsy and blood work, then because I am a glutton for punishment I had my MOHS skin cancer surgery on my nose the following morning.
          I asked if I could bring St. Bob in for the biopsy but they said no. I explained that he’s my emotional comfort animal. They still said no. (I may have to get him a vest.) Finally they bandaged me up, put me on ice, and sent me home. (No photo of the breast, thank you.)
 Then the next morning I arrived at another office at 7:45 for more blood work and to have my nose deadened with approximately two thousand needles before having a portion of it removed. Between this and the breast biopsy I feel like an organ donor who isn’t even dead, yet. This isn't me, but you get the idea:
In the middle of it all, I texted my boys to give them an update (our daughter was there already). Here is the exact thread of the text:
Cassidy: That’s great to hear, good luck with the procedure today!
Richie: 10/10 update.  Would read again.
Me: Your text looks like it’s the 10th part of something.  Can you resend?
Richie: Nope, I was just rating it a 10 out of 10.
Cassidy: I’m screenshotting this.
Me: Ha ha!  I’m sitting here with a bandaged nose and I needed that laugh. (Then later, after surgery) Well, this morning they only had to do one scraping, so that’s good. But I have an incision from the bridge of my nose to its base. I have to wear a pressure bandage so I look like an elephant but hopefully I’ll be doing better soon. She told me no yoga, no strenuous exercise, no brisk walks. I told her she was describing my current lifestyle, so no problem.
Brandon: Ha, you were made to recover from nose surgery!
Richie: I can’t help but wonder what exactly the doc is worried will happen if you suddenly take up yoga.
Brandon: It could explode.
Me: That is exactly my fear and why I have never done it before.
Brandon: Yoga nose.  That’s what happened to Michael Jackson.
Me: I knew it! Sometimes the answer is right under your, uh, nose.
Brandon: The first recorded example was the Sphynx.
Me: And see? He’s sitting there doing that doggie pose. Or cat pose.
So there you have it, folks.  Brilliant medical analysis, and all at the click of a button.  (You can also buy my books with the click of a button right here.)


  1. You were made to recover from nose surgery...that had me spitting my morning mocktail out my nose!

  2. So funny! I hope you recover well.