Last July - t'was about the last week or so, this thing came up on my right jaw. It was just back far enough that I couldn't see it without a mirror and, just so you'll know, I was never too good looking at anything with a mirror.
My first thought was: ingrown whisker - or pimple (I am still a teenager at heart). When I touched same mass, it hurt. I left it alone as my mother taught me. "Don't touch that pimple or it will turn into a wart. DO YOU WANT A WART?" Leave em alone - they will heal on their own. Wrong.
I left it alone. August started and so did Grammy Camp. It was two weeks long and so was my growth. On the 4th week, I decided -- call a dermotologist, darnatogolist, droop-a-mologist - I never could keep those straight. I called. Nurse answered. I explained that I wanted an appointment with Dr. Bilitz. She started talking up the Physician Asst. PA....BOTH FEMALE. I said, "No, I don't want some female poking around on me, I will wait for the Doctor." Now I know that is a bit wrong, but I am 70 yrs old and I don't want some female poking around on me. I have enough problems.
Keep in mind - this is 3rd week of August. I went in for my appt on Tuesday. His waiting list is that long.
The nurse ushered me into a small examining room, chair, table, stool, recliner - and hung brilliantly on the wall, a Whitish flag with a big double T in the middle....signed by Leach and that basketball guy we all loved to love and hate. Two other signatures adorned the flag in two other corners - couldn't make them out. I was in the presence of a Tech grad. All must be okay.
Nurse left. In walked this late 20 to early 30 tall young lady. She introduced herself as an intern from Baylor. A FEMALE !!!! She said, "If you will POP off your shirt and sit up here." pop off my shirt. This female is going to go poking around my body - that concept to most of you readers should be repulsive in itself - not the poking around, but me without a shirt. Ask my wife. No, don't ask my wife.
I said as I popped of my shirt, "Pop off your shirt. You must not have been raised in Texas." I was right. She is over here from Ireland. Of course I was able to talk about my Irish heritage - the Tule family. She found the spelling to be interesting, or she was just being nice. Much poking went on. Eventually, I was able to replace my pop-off. Dr. Bilitz stolled in. I complimented him on the Tech flag - we were instant friends.
The doc poked around. They agreed; I had 3 things on my face that needed to go away. The jaw thing had gone done somewhat - so it was suspect too. Doc left. Irish Doc got out the freezer gun. She said, "close your eyes." Whoosh. I can tell you, that hurts. I asked if I could scream. She said that some do. I didn't. I have had one pain that was more than this, but don't let anyone tell you this is fun. It is not.
(side bar: my retina detached two different times and I was hit by a laser twice, one month or so apart. This is a pain that I cannot describe. You don't want it unless the doctor provides a bullet to put between your teeth.)
Zapping over. Irish chick doc split. I split. Set up a follow-up appt for exactly one year from now. They seem concerned don't they? One year before a follow up. My 3 bits of pain dimished over time. Still it all hurts and scabs are starting to form. I want to return to normal.
With that, I close.
p.s. hummingbirds outside my window are having a great time right now AND it is precisely 5 p.m. My dog Fritz is starting to pace the floor for his supper.
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Posted by Mike Metze at 5:04 PM
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