Cutting Heads

This is NOTHING like my cut...but how cool is this?











Sooooo..... “The MOHS Surgery.... does anyone really care? I am not sure that I do. My wife accompanied me to the doctors office/surgery center. The process went exactly as promised. I showed up at 7:45 and by 8:15 they had a small chunk of my precious forehead out. Now I am sitting in the waiting room waiting for them to examine “the margins” before they go back in and cut some more away. Evidiently thse nasty little basal cells have tendrils or “legs” and so as to be least invasive as possible they follow these legs and excevate them rather then cutting the whole chunk of your head out. I guess it it is only head in my case since my basal cell is in the middle of my lower forehead. I say “lower” forehead because any of you who know me know that I have a vast expanse of forehead. People have often analogized my forehead as approximating that of a Beluga whale. The Bleuga is not a particularly graceful looking whale. Not to belabor the point but billboard companies have shown more then a casual interest in my head for advertising space..... so... lower fore head.

When they first took me in there they had to shove a couple of needles in my forehead as local anesthetic. It hurt. I never understand why they have to give you a shot in order to limit your pain. The shots seem painful... especially when they shove the needles into your head. The numb it pretty good and the funny nurse tells me they give me a “numb skull”. Ahahahhaahahaha. The doctor comes in and they put something over my eyes and then I feel pressure as she carves on me quickly and efficiently. The real reason they put something over your eyes is because they do MOHS surgery with a samurai sword. If you have ever seen Uma Thurman in “Kill Bill” you have some idea of what I am talking about. They cover your eyes because, according to my doctor, “bad shit happens when you flinch”. I believe her.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohs_surgery

I am a solid 20 years younger then any one else in the waiting room. They come back and tell me that I am “clear”. In MOHS parlance that means that they got it all and do not need to cut on me anymore. Clearly it is a relief because that means my basal cell didn’t have and “legs” or tendrils digging deep into my huge...huge skull. Still, I cannot help feeling cheated that didn’t have a better, more dangerous cancer or surgery. It is a disappointment, and a relief until they take me back in to sew me up. That means I have to get another bunch of shots in head to numb my head. The shots suck even worse the second time. She puts about a millionstitched into me head and explains she is going to do the stitches on one of the many “frown lines” that cover my head like waves of sand in the sahara.

I called my mom. She picked me up and took me home. Lets not discuss the fact that I am 48 and my mommy is still picking me up and taking me home. At least lets not talk about it now.