A Mother’s Day Card, a “10” and a Carcinoma

Whenever I don’t know what to write about for my daily blog post, something inspires me. Today I got my inspiration at the dermatologist’s office.

I was supposed to go yesterday to see about the weird fleshy bump just above my left eye and against my eye socket. I don’t notice it too much except when I put on eye shadow, which I did this past weekend for my two chorus performances. Long story short, my free pile of mulch from the tree company got dumped in my driveway last week. And I’ve been whittling away at it so that we can get out cars back in the driveway. I forgot to go to my appointment yesterday, and I blame the mulch.

Today was my lucky day. I remembered to write my mom a Mother’s Day card and took it with me to the appointment. After the physician’s assistant poked me in the eye socket with a numbing shot, then took a biopsy, then cauterized the open wound, all I could think of was the dang mulch. I hadn’t really taken a good look at the tall guy who sat across from me in the waiting room. When I came out, he was gone, but the waiting room was packed.

I made it all the way to the car, even started it up and drove it one row in the parking lot when I realized I’d left behind my purple metal water bottle. I re-parked the car and headed back up to the 3^rd floor office. The tall guy was checking out. The nurse went down the long hallway to the room and returned with my water bottle. That put me and the tall guy exiting the waiting room at the same time.

When I got to the elevator, the guy hung back. I said, “Going down?” We discussed the fact that there aren’t stairs up to the third floor. Then I blurted that my eye socket hurt and that everything looks like melanoma to me.

The guy was stunningly gorgeous. He had Paul Newman blue eyes, a stylish short gray haircut, and a tennis player body. If you know Penn Holderness from the internet, he looked like him only less goofy. The “10” mentioned that he’d had melanoma twice. I said I’d only had it once.

We got off the elevator praising our doctors’ office’s willingness to biopsy anything we asked .

Then I said the stupid, “Have a good one,” as I walked the extra row to my car. He got in his car and drove away. I followed him to the stoplight. He turned left and I turned right to drop the Mother’s Day card at the post office. He’d had on a wedding ring and was probably a good ten years younger than me, maybe ten years older than Penn, the handsome internet goof.

Anyway, you never know when you’re going to get a little present from the universe, like a beautiful melanoma buddy on an elevator ride. I wonder if he had his full body skin check today.

And I had on my yucky mulchy work clothes.

Bah!