Thursday, April 29, 2010

Happy Crazy Fun Time!

I have three funny spots on my face. Two on my forehead, one on my left cheek. They start as weird purple pimple looking spots, then get dry and flaky like a peeling sun-burn. Two of these spots have been frozen off with the admonition to have them rechecked if they returned, so this afternoon I went to have the biggest one rechecked!

Biopsy

Not being a personal fan of sun-screen (but knowing how important it is, so I make the kids use it) I've had three second degree sun burns on my face, and have been warned and cajoled about the problems this might cause later in life.

32 is later in life?...

I'm sure the biopsy will come back saying that, yup - there's skin on my face, and that'll be just fine with me. So the excitement?...I almost passed out!

I like to think that I can handle a lot, and have done so repeatedly, but for some reason when I'm the one in pain or under anesthesia, I have a consistent habit of passing out post medical procedure...I think of all the times I've blacked out, only twice has it been from something other than being a baby!

Girl scout camp at Cloud Rim during flag ceremony...apparently the altitude change did me no good...and in the vets office when I took my first and favorite rottweiler to have an injured paw stitched up, (and that was an adventure...stuck me in a snow bank to help me come to)otherwise it's always been my own weak resolve that's let me drop.

Today was such a minor thing, one little shot and a few minutes of feeling not a thing, one tiny little circle bandaid, and I stood up to find that the floor didn't exist. Knowing my predisposition for crumpling and falling, I hurried my behind into a chair where I sat happily waiting for the tracers to leave my field of vision, and the room to quit spinning.

What fun it is!...My record is three times in about 10 minutes following the removal of my right ovary. My mother and sister had me laid out on the kitchen chairs when I came to, I felt like I was at my own wake...after which the 3 Fotheringham boys all insisted on staying with me every night to make sure I was ok all night long!

What a wonderful tradition of warmth, caring, and me mumbling something before I fall to the ground. It's almost as much fun as the kids being as gross as they can to make me throw up right after meals!