Monday, November 14, 2016

spot on changes

.We added a bit of variety to our life today.  Instead of seeing a gastroenterologist, neurologist, or a therapist of some kind, we changed it up and went to see a dermatologist.  Mary has been concerned about the various spots that speckle my head. Actually, I think she's worried that I may be losing my manly good looks with all those spots marring my exceptionally pleasant countenance.

There was some concern about precancerous spots on my head since I worked outside in the glorious sunshine for many years and spent a lot of time on the golf course as well.  I never bothered with sunscreen either.

I wasn't particularly concerned about all those discolored beauty marks, but I had to humor Mary or she would be on my back like another big spot until she drove me crazy and drove me to a doctor. I also wanted to se the dermadoc about an ouwee on my left ear that has been there for a very long time without healing.

It turns out that all those spots we were dealing with were nothing more than "wisdom spots" as the doc referred to them.  That was just a nice way to say "old age" spots. Nothing can be done with them. And I should expect to have more of them appearing as I get older.

The ear sore was something else though.  The doctor diagnosed it as chondrodermatitusnodularishelicis.
I said, "That's easy for you to say, but what is it in English."
He said, "sore ear."

Funny guy.  He told me that the soreness was caused by compression on my ear, probably from sleeping on it too much. His recommendation: get a piece of foam and cut out a hole for my ear to fit into so nothing is touching it, and eventually it would go away. If I do that you will never know because I will forbid any photographic evidence to appear for you all to make fun of me.

Then, to mollify Mary, the doc said he would freeze some of those "wisdom spots" and make them disappear so I wouldn't get too much uglier.  He grabbed his liquid nitrogen gun and proceed posthaste to zap the chosen offenders.  What he did not do is warn me that freezing them would be stingingly painful.  He caught me surprise, and I am not ashamed to admit that I screamed like a little girl when he shot that liquid nitrogen on those spots.  He looked unapologetic, even pleased with himself, when I squeeled in pain.  And I am not too pleased with Mary's reaction to my suffering either.  She seemed disconcertingly pleased with my reaction. We will have to talk about that real soon.

And, oh yeah, we got a dog.

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