I went in today to get this tiny mole removed (maybe 6mm diameter) from my right side. I’ve had moles removed before - from my back, from the side of my head, etc., so I kind of knew what to expect.
Let me interject here that I am the biggest pain pussy ever. I don’t fear death, I fear pain. I fear any little kind of pain there could possibly be. Even if something isn’t hurting, I anticipate pain, and that hurts almost as much. I can’t watch medical shows on TV, and any needle bigger than the tiny ones I get my allergy shots with make me a little queasy.
Keeping that in mind, I got numbed (which hurt a lot, ironically - and the needle was a little larger than I’m comfortable with) and then the doctor started the operation. I was awake, but lying on my side not watching.
About halfway through, I started to feel the pressure of him pulling on the skin on my side and cutting and whatnot… and I started sweating profusely. I mean, like, sweat rolling off my forehead, soaked down, “I’ve been working on the railroad all the livelong day” sort of sweat.
Then he started cutting outside the area a little to make sure he got it all and I started feeling it a little, so he had to numb some more, which meant they brought a needle out and it made it all worse.
By the end of the thing they had to bring me an ice pack and a cup of cranberry juice because they were all worried about my distinct lack of color. I wasn’t at “pass out” level yet, but I was definitely headed there.
I have to go back in two weeks to get the stitches removed. I’m sitting here typing this and I feel the tightness in my side (probably due to the gigantic bandage attached to me) and I don’t know how long I’m gonna be able to stand that.
I think I should eat something.