Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Vetern's Day Cancerectomy

Yesterday I took headed out of the office around noon. Technically, I wasn't even supposed to go in yesterday, but the company I am hoping to work for soon asked if I could hang out for a bit to start work on a project, so I did. (I know that it doesn't seem to make sense that I would go in to work my job to do work for a company I don't yet work for, but in my world, it makes a certain sort of sense. Just go with it.)

So, I went to buy a coat. All of my old jackets and winter coats are three or four sizes too big, so I headed out and scored not one, but two, coats. I threw a new knit hat into the mix, so now I"m ready for winter's worst. Bring it.

After two stores, I still had some time to kill so I headed to Half Price Books over near campus. HPB isn't a place where you go in looking for a certain book because more often than not, you won't find it. It IS a place to go in and wander around for a couple of hours and get a bunch of shit you didn't realize you needed until you saw it on the shelf. That's what I did. I looked at old vinyl (the records always smell like mildew...it's comforting somehow), flipped through graphic novels, drooled over their locked collection of First Editions, and wound up spending $20 on four new books. I love that place.

Then, I picked Jen up from her office, and headed over to her doctor's office. We had been waiting for this day for almost a full month since getting the call that the mole on her chin was cancerous, and the wait was taking its toll on her. She was just ready to have the damn thing cut out, so that's exactly what they did. It took about twenty-five minutes and I got to watch them do it. Well, I watched part of it anyway. Normally, I would have been fascinated by the whole process, but it's different when it's your wife being cut. I sat at the end of the table near her feet, rubbing her ankle every once in a while, but avoiding the actual action.

I did see many blood soaked gauze squares being piled on a surgical tray. I saw the rose tattoo on the back of the assistant's neck. I saw a little half inch bleeding squiggle of cancer and skin get held to the light before being lowered into a little cup that will be shipped off to a lab for testing.

Jen was quiet for the most part, and was a trooper through the whole thing. Like I said, she was just ready for them to be done. And now they are. In two weeks the stitches come out and then we can get on with everything else. I'm not sure yet what "everything else" consists of, but I'm ready for it.

2 comments:

Thomas Kingsley Troupe said...

Glad things went well for Jen and the dreaded cancer chin. Pat her on the head or hug her or whatever 'you people' do.

I know I sound like I'm buttering you up or blowing smoke in an orafice, but dude...you've got a way with words. You need to find a job where you have to do minimal stuff and can just put time in with the prose. Not like you need practice, but because you should be producing more of it.

I was immediately transported to Half Price Books and it was like...poetry.

And then...in the procedure room. You have a knack for writing about the little details, which brings such a cool flavor to the story.

Anyway...I'm probably embarassing you. Glad I stopped by. It's been too long.

Lionel Ritchie's Man Bag said...

You're right...I'm embarassed. That you for the kind words, though. Glad you stopped by too.