I was taking a shower earlier this week when I had a sudden and very painful pain in my calf. It hurt so much that it actually made me gasp, and I immediately thought “it’s a blood clot! This is it!” but instead of having my whole life flash before my eyes and feeling regret that I did not spend more time with my loved ones, I thought, “FINALLY!” and waited for the clot to get to its destination. This should give you an idea of how my week has been going.
That was a few days ago and I’m still waiting, since apparently my blood clot is taking the scenic route or a nap or something. I know while this may be good news in the big picture sense, it was really inconvenient for me this week. Besides if my calf pain wasn’t a blood clot, what was it? The last thing I need is some sort of calf cancer because I can just imagine the awkwardness of what will follow.
“oh, it’s so adorable! Of course I will donate a lot of money to help fight this calf’s cancer! What? Oh. It’s your stupid LEG calf? Never mind then.”
So that’s extra stress right there that I don’t need in my delicate condition.
And then yesterday I went to a new dermatologist for a skin check. I had skin cancer a few years ago and I’m supposed to get regular checkups. Which I thought meant every year but apparently it means every 6 months, which seems different. The skin check went well in the sense that the doctor identified two areas to biopsy on the spot and one more that we would potentially need to biopsy but she had to get the records from my previous dermatologist and surgeon. She got really personal, too, like wanting to know their names and address. Maybe it’s just me, but I think my check up isn’t the right time for her to get contact info for other doctors for networking. Like, seriously. I didn’t have the exact names, although I did tell her it was a Jewish name with an office on the Upper East Side, but apparently that didn’t narrow it down for her. Whatever.
So then it was time for the biopsies. “You’ll feel a little pinch like a vaccine” she warned me about the anesthesia shot. The good news is that my stomach was so well padded that I did not feel the pinch, little or otherwise, on that area. Unfortunately I cannot say the same about my anorexic back of leg.
And now I have to wait for two weeks to get the results. On the one hand, I feel like this is my constant reality and it’s manageable. The doctor told me that I’ll be getting many biopsies in the future (I’m guessing she’s a part-time psychic) and I know that I’m lucky to be able to have regular screenings. On the other hand, I don’t love hearing things like “you are at the highest risk of skin cancer.”
At least my calf seems to be ok. And not in imminent danger of being hamburgerized.
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To pass these two dreadful two weeks, I recommend starting with Season 1 of Justified and ignoring all household-y duties until you’re through the end of Season 4.
And drinking, duh. (Sending lots of good thoughts for good news from your doctor-psychic. xoxo)
Thinking about you – and am glad there’s another reason to grateful for padded tummies. xo
I think it’s veal not hamburger for calfs. At least you have a doctor that looks out for you.
You may be right. I’ll have to order a calfburger and see what happens.
The waiting sucks. The good news is that after about seven years cancer-free, you can go back to the once-a-year skin check. I finally graduated – and then noticed something that was probably there before but I didn’t notice and made another appointment which will probably be a waste of time and money but I can’t not go. 😉
that your psychic doctor anticipates many more biopsies bodes well as she must also anticipate many more 6 month check ups in a long cancer free future! 🙂
wishing you a swift and productive 2 weeks in which you throw yourself dramatically into your work and come out the other end with a clean bill of health and a book deal! (just reading your previous post).
And just like that, hamburger becomes a verb. Thinking of you, tell us about the results please.
This doctor, I hoped, also recommended some great sunscreen for the fair-skinned? Some zinc oxide organic concoction? And then there’s clothing that protects from ultraviolet and such hats. Not so inevitable. My mother, who grew up in the burn and peel era pre-sunscreens, has had skin cancer a few times–she’s 87? You get regular check-ups, if they see it, it’s gone. This doctor’s
got some attitude.
Unfortunately, most of my sun damage was from when I was sunscreen-free in the USSR. Thanks a lot, communists! But I also have every single other risk factor for skin cancer. Impressive, right?
If I’m in the shower , or anywhere I’m naked for that matter, and feel death coming on, my first instinct is to put clothes on. Worse then death is being found naked. You better keep that in mind.
OMG, I’m never going to shower naked again. Thanks for the heads up.
I have every risk factor for skin cancer, too, and have been biopsied more times than I can count. Fingers crossed you’re okay.
Also? Two weeks for biopsy results seems like a long time.
Twitter: Mamabirddiaries
June 18, 2013 at 2:51 am
You are reminding me that I need my yearly check up at the dermatologist.
You cannot get skin cancer! Because who will watch Bachelorette for us then?! Who?!
I like that you never do things halfway. Praying for your pale beauty to continue cancer-free.
Oh Marinka,
I’m with Shari up there. Praying for no cancer ever! My upper lip is tingling on one side and I immediately thought – skin cancer!
My husband will not forgive me because I made him go get a brown spot checked out on his face, and they sawed a big chunk of his skin off. And it was nothing! Now every time I hint at dermatologist, he back-arms me onto the couch and runs away. Or something like that.