March 19, 2007

I wrote: "You know who your friends really after."

And then I just reread it and thought, "Wha?"

After going to the dermatologist where I was diagnosed with something like a Pre-Tuberus Begonia on the left side of my face and then had to have my face freeze dried to remove the not-yet-cancerous tuber that was quickly eating the left side of my face (according to the unedited side of my head), I went to visit Buzz in her chemo chair. And I told her to move over and give me a hit of that chemo now that I'd been diagnosed with face-eating tuberus begonias, but nay, she would not share the chemo.

At my appointment, the dermatologist, with her flawless skin, took this canister of face freeze-off and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed at what she said was a pre-cancerous growth. That hurt like a sunofabitch. Like I was sticking my face into the flame I make lampwork beads with.

The other spot I was worried about turned out to be merely a benign tumor and she didn't do anything to that one. Which I wouldn't have let her do anyway given the seering pain coming from the other side of my face.

I told Buzz that it was her turn to take care of me and that I'd be waiting at my house for the first casserole to arrive.

I really didn't feel the sympathy vibes coming from her.

She's mean. My face could be eaten away tonight and she'd regret not sharing the casserole love!

Right now the age spot on my face is as brown as my first husband and about as big as a quail egg. Okay. Maybe a tiny robin's egg. Only brown and not robin's egg blue.

I got some free SPF 30 samples that I'm supposed to add to my daily repetoire of high fashion make-up so as to avoid having to be tortured by the dermatologist again.

Oh, and apparently Thing 2 asked Thor on the drive to school this morning if we'd be getting another cat.

Oh hell. Might as well get a dozen of them. I could probably use more practice with the grief.

Non-Blog Sites
I Can Has a Cheezburger