So today was...a day.
It started out nice. My friend Laura and I got our craft on and made shirts for Sunday's USWNT game in Pittsburgh. To say that we are excited would be quite the understatement. Unfortunately, our time was cut short.
And what followed was not so nice.
A few weeks back, my dad noticed a "suspicious mole" on my arm. Having a doctor for a father is usually pretty awesome. But combine the word suspicious and mole AND have it come from my dad was unsettling to say the least. Anyway, he was concerned, so he said I needed to have it excised. Because saying cut or lanced wasn't scary enough, he said I had to have it EXCISED. (Cue scary organ music here). And because he was concerned, whatever they cut out was sent to pathology. Yet another word I don't like very much.
So today was unfortunately here. I made my mom come - wasn't sure if I'd be able to drive myself home. And my teddy bear, affectionately known as, Bear. I really don't care if anyone thinks it's dumb that a 23 year old brought a stuffed animal with her...he's been to every surgery with me. So there.
Since my dad usually says "put a band-aid on it," I decided against having him perform the surgical procedure. Just kidding, Dad, I love you! But really. So I had someone else do it, and he happens to be very close with us. As a result, I made one thing very clear: I did not want to feel ANYTHING!! This meant spraying my arm with that numbing cold stuff before even getting injected with the lidocaine. This coming from the girl with her nose pierced and a tattoo on her foot. Oh well. When I could still feel him poking my arm, we went with another injection of lidocaine. Two injections was just what I needed. The last thing I saw was a rather large mound of the heavenly numbing stuff on my forearm.
And then I laid back. And cried. Before anything happened. I cried. And I cried into my ears. It was gross. So I kept my eyes closed, turned up my music and squeezed both my mom and Bear. I opened my eyes to see my doctor smiling; the worst of it was over. Next part: stitches. I still couldn't feel anything, but I was crying uncontrollably. Not like a crazy person, but I just couldn't help it. But then it was over. My dad had a few minutes, so we stopped in his office and he gave me a lollipop. Yes, a lollipop.
My next reward was Dunkin' Donuts, complete with a box of Munchkins. I was happy.
There is no more numbness in my arm, so I'm in pain. And it probably doesn't help that in my lack of coordination, I walked into my door frame, hitting my arm, and then smashed it into my bed. You could say it's been a good night.
What was a trying day will lead into a relaxful and peaceful weekend for our family reuncation (reunion/vacation). My dad's side of the family (all basically 50 of us) will head up to the mountains for a few days of welcomed relaxation. Being up in the mountains, there's little to no cell reception...it's wonderful. I'm looking forward to reading books, catching up with family, maybe playing in the annual softball game (depending on the status of my arm) and soaking up the peace and quiet.
So while I have a lot on my mind - job prospects, will the mole be nothing or something - I have been reminded by a friend to "not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself." If you know me, I'm not always good at patience and not worrying. But I'm going to try. Especially because I'll be in the perfect place with the best people.
If you don't hear from me, you can blame the mountains. I won't though. I'll be loving every minute of my detachment from civilization.
See ya round like a donut,
Ellie
