Booblog #11

April 21, 2023
Hello friends,
I am failing at keeping my life adventures in front of you. Sorry. I realized that I had no news, so nothing to say meant I should say nothing.

I’ve been recovering well, somewhat a bit narcoleptic, but getting through with naps. So – back to the medical profession…

I have a few barnacles on my face – so it was time to get them frozen. I was done with the multitude of appointments of the first three months of this year, so life is back to normal modest medical needs (whatever that is supposed to be), I think that means a routine I am familiar with, so I am personally comfortable.

I also had a tiny little barnacle growing on my lower left eyelid, which I’ve been watching and wondering about for the past several months. It was time.

The dermatologist froze the facial parts that needed freezing, which will fall off later. I wanted to present him with my belly or my bum for experimentation but decided he didn’t need that in his day. “Look at my eyelid, would you?”

“Too close to the eye-you need to see the ophthalmologist.” Ok
An ophthalmologist says, “Too close to the tear duct – sometimes people who have those removed, leak tears for the rest of their lives. “ OK
“Go see the Oculofacial MD.” OK.
Just so you get this — my eyelid has its own doctor. Every part of my body so far is unique to its medical specialty. Gotta love us. Ms. Potato was the future of medical care – who knew?
Turns out that the young woman MD in question I went to was gorgeous – too beautiful to be an MD, I explained to her. She took it as the compliment it was, not the insult it could be interpreted as. Someday I’ll learn…maybe. I got stuck with a numbing shot, and off the little invader went- just like that!

Today, the biopsy informed her that it was cancerous. WHAAAA? No. I rushed to the visual of how I would blink without an eyelid, or maybe an eye, or maybe a forehead… just in case it went further. Second surgery is scheduled — it will only take a blink, it is very, very, tiny, and she promises I won’t be disfigured.

It is a different sort of cancer – not squamous, but a simple kind that isn’t dangerous, -basal cell- but must be removed anyway. Can you imagine the images my mind has been playing-mostly, all those from the mail that indicates how privileged I am to have access to medical care, compared to the person who walks with his legs backward, or someone genetically lacking functional body parts? My imagination was fired up, all right. A patch, maybe a patch, will cover the excision. Lew will hardly notice.

On a better note-the weather is wonderful – windy- but warming, and the birds are back, hawks soaring above. They don’t sing — they whistle-scream. I miss them all winter, and suddenly thye are here, when and where we live our lives. It is bright in the morning, and blue-bright in the afternoon now too. I am so loving this spring. Maybe this is the result of the past months – a robust appreciation for each day.

Daughter Kelley came over and, with great generosity of her time, saved me from terrible reporting tax difficulties for the properties I manage. I was not paying attention and needed help badly. She is calm, and thorough, and handled QuickBooks amazingly while I could hardly force myself to sit in the chair next to her. I am so phobic about it, it is sad. Next year will see changes in that as well. Son Tim will do the bookwork, and I will do the hands-on stuff during the days, nights, and weekends. That should be better and works for both of us.

I see the oncologist, – I expect to anyway, next week. I am eager to put this behind me, and move on, while worried just a bit that the eye thing might be a deterrent to my doing that. I’ve said that I would check out all my “stuff,” and if clear, then I would pass up the option of further chemical treatment (tamoxifen, etc.) against future unknown cancers.

For now, the birds are calling, and spring is about to burst upon us, and I’ve begun to clean my office – (OMG, right?) I’m making shrimp linguini, a tossed salad, and some maybe/maybe not pumpkin muffins I cooked up. Life is sweet. Thank you.
Judy Lavezzi