I was so much older then. I'm younger than that, now.
So yesterday was February 25th.
I'm laying on my stomach in a hospital room for a small dermatological procedure ("suspicious" mole on my back that's been there since I was a kid. Sub story:
Dr: So your labs from the biopsy came back "suspicious," and the pathologist is recommending excision.
Kat: I can, however, vouch for its whereabouts on every single day since about 1988...
Dr. genuinely seems to think this is very funny.
I remember that I make terrible, awkward jokes when I am nervous...)
Very Nice Nurse and Dr get me ready for the procedure, I don't feel anything after the initial shots for numbing, my face is turned toward my left shoulder, and I' looking out the window. I see the window coverings, and I remember being wheeled through hallways with the same window curtains, and that they were one of the last few vivid things my brain remarked before seeing the machine that was going to hold my leg in traction.
Dr. apologizes for the weird sounds of one of the machines he's using, and asks if I'm comfortable and doing okay.
And, out of nowhere, I say, in a voice that comes out louder than I mean it to:
I had hip surgery here, in this building. On this exact day, Febraury 25th, three years ago. I guess it's just my day for getting things fixed. But this is nothing. You guys are awesome-- I don't feel any pain at all. I was nervous, but now I'm not.
And Very Nice Nurse, Dr, and I chat for a little while. They're clearly used to outbursts from nervous people who are trying to fight their very human instincts to feel annoyed and a little betrayed that someone is poking them with a series of very sharp objects.
Dr says that I need to come back in two weeks to get my eight stitches out. He also says that they can keep an eye on the scar, that it should end up looking like just a little line, but some people scar differently than others.
And I think about the three faint pink dots at the very top of my thigh on my right leg.
And I am afraid that, one day, they'll be completely gone.
So yesterday was February 25th.
I'm laying on my stomach in a hospital room for a small dermatological procedure ("suspicious" mole on my back that's been there since I was a kid. Sub story:
Dr: So your labs from the biopsy came back "suspicious," and the pathologist is recommending excision.
Kat: I can, however, vouch for its whereabouts on every single day since about 1988...
Dr. genuinely seems to think this is very funny.
I remember that I make terrible, awkward jokes when I am nervous...)
Very Nice Nurse and Dr get me ready for the procedure, I don't feel anything after the initial shots for numbing, my face is turned toward my left shoulder, and I' looking out the window. I see the window coverings, and I remember being wheeled through hallways with the same window curtains, and that they were one of the last few vivid things my brain remarked before seeing the machine that was going to hold my leg in traction.
Dr. apologizes for the weird sounds of one of the machines he's using, and asks if I'm comfortable and doing okay.
And, out of nowhere, I say, in a voice that comes out louder than I mean it to:
I had hip surgery here, in this building. On this exact day, Febraury 25th, three years ago. I guess it's just my day for getting things fixed. But this is nothing. You guys are awesome-- I don't feel any pain at all. I was nervous, but now I'm not.
And Very Nice Nurse, Dr, and I chat for a little while. They're clearly used to outbursts from nervous people who are trying to fight their very human instincts to feel annoyed and a little betrayed that someone is poking them with a series of very sharp objects.
Dr says that I need to come back in two weeks to get my eight stitches out. He also says that they can keep an eye on the scar, that it should end up looking like just a little line, but some people scar differently than others.
And I think about the three faint pink dots at the very top of my thigh on my right leg.
And I am afraid that, one day, they'll be completely gone.
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