I went in today to get this tiny mole removed (maybe 6mm diameter) from
my right side. I’ve had moles removed before - from my back, from the
side of my head, etc., so I kind of knew what to expect.
Let me interject here that I am the biggest pain pussy ever. I don’t
fear death, I fear pain. I fear any little kind of pain there could
possibly be. Even if something isn’t hurting, I anticipate pain, and
that hurts almost as much. I can’t watch medical shows on TV, and any
needle bigger than the tiny ones I get my allergy shots with make me a
little queasy.
Keeping that in mind, I got numbed (which hurt a lot, ironically - and
the needle was a little larger than I’m comfortable with) and then the
doctor started the operation. I was awake, but lying on my side not
watching.
About halfway through, I started to feel the pressure of him pulling on
the skin on my side and cutting and whatnot… and I started sweating
profusely. I mean, like, sweat rolling off my forehead, soaked down,
“I’ve been working on the railroad all the livelong day” sort of sweat.
Then he started cutting outside the area a little to make sure he got
it all and I started feeling it a little, so he had to numb some more,
which meant they brought a needle out and it made it all worse.
By the end of the thing they had to bring me an ice pack and a cup of
cranberry juice because they were all worried about my distinct lack of
color. I wasn’t at “pass out” level yet, but I was definitely headed
there.
I have to go back in two weeks to get the stitches removed. I’m sitting
here typing this and I feel the tightness in my side (probably due to
the gigantic bandage attached to me) and I don’t know how long I’m gonna
be able to stand that.
I think I should eat something.