I've never bothered about my age spots because I had enough to worry about with the skin cancers but this particular age spot has irritated me way too long. I visited the dermatologist yesterday for my 6 month check-up and she only had to spray a couple of spots on my skin that didn't look quite right. They're probably not skin cancers but I'm happy to have them checked and sprayed anyway.
I mentioned to her that I'd like the larger age spot on my cheek removed and she was able to do it right away. Lucky me! It's considered cosmetic surgery so I had to pay $180 to have it removed but it's worth it if it looks okay in the end. There's quite a large bandage on it but I'll use something smaller when I replace it myself.
Age spots are darker patches on the skin but this one also had some depth to it and it was only getting larger so I thought it best to remove the darned thing. Having it or losing it mattered not one bit to my appearance but I just hated seeing it there. Most people thought I had something stuck on my cheek and often tried to pick it off so it's better gone.
Yesterday was the first time I'd been skin cancer free for almost 1 year so I'm hoping the worst is behind me and all I'll ever need from now on is the bi-yearly spraying to keep it under control. Wishful thinking, maybe, but I'm hoping!
Before removing the spot, I received a needle to freeze it...this hurt a bit but not horribly. From what I understand, the spot was removed by laser and it only took maybe less than a minute to do. I have a fair sized bandage on my cheek and will have to keep it covered for a couple of months. No big deal. Soon the bandage will be no more than a small bandaid so that's no problem. I've had so many skin cancers removed and been bandaged more than I like to think about. At least this one isn't from a skin cancer removal!
I put the photo on Facebook and Kim mentioned that I have a large ear...not so! I have lovely little ears but the photo somehow made it look awfully big. I think it's the angle of the photo. What bothers me more about the photo is that my hair looks terrible!
Anyway, there has been no pain or discomfort even after the freezing wore off. I do hope it doesn't come back quickly, though. There's never any guarantee, but I'm hoping!
I can't find my heating pad...if I have one and I can't imagine not having one...so I borrowed Faye's and have been using it on my sore arm for the past week. I guess it's on my arm for 3-4 hours per day and, darn it, it really helps. The pain hasn't disappeared by any means but the constant ache is now bearable. The day after I had the ultrasound, my arm hurt so badly that I couldn't stand it. Just the pressure of the technician as he manipulated my arm was the cause. But now it's a little bit better.
Oh yes, the ultrasound showed I have a minute partial tear in the supraspinatus zone measuring 4 x2 x3 mm. Also a hypoechoic area in the distal portion of the biceps measuring 1.2 x 0.4 x 3.4 cm. These measurements and areas mean nothing to me so I asked Shelley to explain. Apparently it means the problem is in the shoulder and biceps. I knew that!!
Anyway, both my doctor and Shelley agree that physiotherapy will help and my first appointment is Monday, May 2 at 9 A.M. I also have a dental appointment the same day at 2:30 so I'm going to be a very sore lady that day.
We seniors don't bounce back from injuries like we did when we were younger and I always worry that any new hurt is permanent. I hope this one isn't because it is already limiting how much I dare carry or lift...not that I've ever been really strong even when I was younger.
But, back to the heating pad. It amazes me how much it helps aches and pains in any part of the body. I guess the heat comforts us and makes us relax our muscles. I know that applying cold compresses are supposed to shrink swelling but cold isn't comforting. I'll stick with the warmth unless ordered to do otherwise.
Today I'm feeling quite good and have already done the laundry and made my bed...only tasks needed today. I'm considering going for a nice long drive and having lunch out. Life is good!
Facebook may not be everyone's cup of tea but it holds a special spot in my heart. This morning Andrea posted an older photo of Isabel playing with 2 of her grandchildren and it warmed and hurt my heart at the same time. She showered those babies with love and I hope they're old enough to never forget that feeling.
Knowing that our death is just around the corner means we fear being forgotten, especially for the good and loving things we do with our lives. We try not to worry about our past mistakes and hope they won't be what our loved ones remember most when we're gone. At least I do.
We assume the internet will be around forever because we can't imagine anything more powerful or sustaining than the internet and that is why I write this blog. I want my progeny to be able to read my thoughts and learn about their ancestor in years to come. I don't think that's egotistical because I would dearly love to read my distant ancestors' thoughts.
No, we don't like to be forgotten because that means we weren't necessary and that's difficult to accept. Very few of us will ever do anything that will be put in history books but most of us don't care about that. We just want to be remembered by the people we hold dear in our hearts.
I'm a people watcher and enjoy seeing the smile and love on the faces of people as they look at their loved ones. It makes me feel as though there is more good in the human race than evil. It shows me a darned good reason why we humans exist at all!
You know what I feel when I see a shabby street person? I first wonder what brought him/her to this stage of life and then my thoughts fly back in time to when they were a child and most certainly loved by someone, even if only by their mother. I see them as newborns, perfect and pure. And then I imagine that loss of love in some drastic way caused them to stop loving themselves. And I think, "there, but for chance, go I".
I guess I got off on a tangent there but that's okay. This is my blog and my thoughts so where they lead me is okay.
Now, if my descendants ever read this blog, know that I lived a life that was never perfect but it was filled with love...most of the time. I think that's the best we can hope for.
I'll bet that the crazies from Westboro Baptist Church have been the cause of many people turning against organized religion. Any church group that preaches that much hatred has to be sick in the head.
I happened to catch a film clip on T.V. of one of their recent protests (either a military or a gay funeral) and it sort of frightened me to see these relatively normal looking people spewing hatred under the guise of what their "god" teaches them. Would anyone worship a god of hatred??
And so I typed in a wordsearch on Google only to see that these whackos think Canadians are depraved and planned to protest at a Blue Jays game (I think one in the States). Now I tend to think Canadians are liked everywhere because we're so blah but apparently these Baptists see us as demons from hell. One of the church members was asked how many human beings will end up in hell and she said 99.999999999%. She thinks she and her followers are going to heaven. Yeah, right! If she's the type of person that ends up in heaven, then it's misnamed and I hope I don't go there.
I get the ultrasound on my arm this afternoon and this is what I'm predicting...there will be a small tear in the muscle or rotator cuff and I'll just have to deal with the discomfort for the rest of my life. The physical therapy might help but I'm not counting on it.
I've been trying not to lift things with my right hand but I do it automatically before realizing I shouldn't. I think that will always be the case.
I'm not used to having discomfort like this...only my knees when they've acted up...so to have limited use and slight pain every time I move this damned arm is making me mad. As we age we expect things to hurt and I'm very lucky I don't have much arthritis but I don't want ANY pain or discomfort!
I'll find out exactly what it is and what the prognosis is at the end of the week when I phone my family doctor.
There really is no such thing as a free day because there are always the usual little housekeeping details to look after but today is as close as it can get for me.
I love semi-free days. I love not having to watch the clock knowing I have obligations some time that day. I love the freedom a semi-free day gives me to do pretty much nothing if that's what I want to do.
Today my chores are as follows: make the bed, wash a few dishes, get dressed, brush my hair and my teeth, wash my face. It doesn't get much freer than this.
But...I really should go out for a few groceries and a new mat for the spare bedroom. I also need a battery for the weigh scale. I'm sure I'll think of a few more stops to make while I'm out.
See, there can't be a totally free day as long as you're able to get up, out, and about.
Okay, I know our wait times might be a little longer for non emergencies but I'll take it any day over what the Americans have. One of my friends told me that her co-pay alone could hit $6000 in a year. That doesn't happen to us Canadians!
Shelley was shocked to hear I have to wait a whole week for an ultrasound on my arm and 2 more weeks to wait for therapy. But I won't receive one single bill for these services and my problem is not an emergency.
I have to point out to her again that she should remember the excellent care her father got when he was diagnosed with cancer. His illness lasted a whole year and he had full and quick access to doctors, hospitals, medication, treatments, equipment for home use, and home care nurses. None of these cost us a cent. If it had we could have lost our house to pay for it. Either that or we could not have afforded the things that made him comfortable on his journey. Government health care, even one with flaws like our own, gives us security.
We pay high taxes in Canada but it's worth it to have our universal health care system. I'm old enough to remember when we didn't so I know the difference.
I've experienced health care in the States and been amazed at how luxurious it seems in comparison to our own but Americans pay a hefty price for that luxury. It's great if you can afford it but the average citizen simply can't unless they have good coverage through their workplace. Not everyone has that coverage so the poor receive substandard care. In Canada, we are treated equally. Americans call that "socialism" and I guess it is but I'll take it any day over what I see in the States.
In any case, my arm hurts a bit and I will be taken care of at no cost to me. The wheels, albeit slower in motion, are still in motion.
When I hurt my arm lifting the futon, the pain wasn't sufficient to send me to a doctor because I didn't want the hassle of making a claim on my out-of-country insurance. Once I got home, though, I wanted to find out just what damage I'd done to myself.
I phoned my doctor this morning and was surprised he could see me this afternoon. He thinks it might be a torn muscle but I'm getting an ultrasound on Monday to know for sure. I also set myself up with physiotherapy right here in town for May 2nd. There is no cost to me for any of this and I like to point that out to my American friends. For the most part, they tend to be a little afraid of government health care. My doctor said that, whether or not the muscle is torn, therapy will help heal it faster and I'm all for that.
I have good motion in the arm but it hurts when I move it and it aches when I'm not moving it. I hate this!
My doctor likened my muscle to a rubber band that has aged right along with me and become easily frayed or torn. He said it with tact but the truth is I'm falling apart. I just never realized my innards were deteriorating along with my outside.
Anyway, this isn't the end of the world as far as health problems go so I won't get myself upset about it. I certainly won't be straining these old muscles anymore by lifting heavy stuff!
Lots still need to be done...spring housecleaning...but I've got the livingroom finished and the floors done with the exception of the bedrooms. I'll do those tomorrow. I want to do some decluttering, too. I have a lot of craft supplies and games that need to go because they're not being used.
It was a long 2 day drive with Cindy and Don but both were good drivers. The only scary incident happened when I was driving and the ramps of a small trailer in front of me dropped down. I thought for sure they would rip off and it would have caused a terrible accident because I was pinned in my lane by a huge tractor trailer. Luck held, though, and the driver with the trailer slid over 3 lanes to the right shoulder to repair it.
When we got to the border crossing in Detroit, the line-up extended out along the highway and looked to be miles long. Nothing was moving much so we drove up to Sarnia to cross there. The line-ups were very long, too, but they were moving okay.
It was soooo good to be home. I didn't care that the outside air was pretty darned chilly because I was home! Warm spring and summer weather is on the horizon so I can put up with a bit of cold for now. I put away a few things and went to bed early. Unfortunately, I kept waking up and being unable to get back to sleep immediately. That makes for a tiring day. I bought groceries yesterday and finished unpacking the car trunk. I swear I'll not fill that trunk again next year...but somehow it happens.
Kim, Matt, Kellie, and I are going to Nick and Bev's for dinner tonight so I get to see Nolan and Nash, too. I didn't buy them much while I was in Florida because I never see them in the clothes I buy for them. I have to assume Natasha doesn't like my taste. No problem...I'll treat them with dinners and entertainment.
I do miss my Florida friends but Dee and I will get together this summer at Fallsview. Right now I'm fully enjoying being by myself for a few hours. I'll be busy all next week with housecleaning, banking, and getting my taxes done. Getting settled in the apartment is so much easier than when I had the house. I've never for one second regretted selling and moving into my apartment.
And for now...I'll enjoy vegetating in front of the computer.
There is no place like home. When I'm in Florida, my trailer is home but the real home where my life and heart is lies further north in Canada. That's my home home.
"Home" is where you know you belong in the long run. It's the place where you feel the most comfortable and where you believe you could stay until the day you die.Some say that home is where your stuff is but I have stuff in both places. The stuff I have at my home home is the most treasured, though. The stuff I have in the trailer could blow away in a hurricane and I'd be sad but not devastated. That stuff isn't quite as important to me. Now, the friends I have in Florida are very important to me and, by staying in the trailer, it gives me a place to be near them. It's the friends that would break my heart to lose, not the contents of the trailer.
So, tomorrow morning, Cindy, Don, and I will start the long 2 day trek home home. With each mile we cover, I'll be feeling more peaceful, knowing I'm heading in the right direction at this moment in time. With luck and good health, I'll reverse the trip in November and head back to Florida where my little home away from home awaits me.
I like to think I'm a kind, compassionate person but often I fail miserably. Too often, we're not as good as we prefer to think we are.
The other day I was driving to Sears to purchase another pair of pants which I didn't need but just wanted. As I waited at a red light, I saw a man begging and immediately felt a resentment that I usually feel about beggars. After all, isn't it better to work at a fast food place than to beg on the streets? Why should people who work hard for their money simply give it away to people who won't work? Those were my immediate thoughts.
At that moment it started to rain but the beggar continued walking past the stopped cars with his little sign (didn't read it). My thoughts were that the rain would put an end to his begging but it didn't. A hand emerged from the car in front of me motioning the beggar to come over. My thoughts were, "why do people encourage these beggars?".
As the beggar reached the car, the driver put an umbrella in his hand. I felt shame for my very less than generous thoughts and a strange humbleness that there are still kind and generous people in this world...kinder and more generous by far than me.
And so I continued on my way, bought the pants plus a pretty top but, as I drove back to Shelley's, I noticed the beggar at the same intersection. He was still busy begging but he was holding a completely different umbrella than the pretty one I saw given to him earlier. I've been wondering what happened to the first one, wondering if the beggar came prepared with his own umbrella, and wondered again why we give money to beggars. If you are relatively young and able and can think ahead to maybe needing an umbrella, you are capable of working and don't need to beg.
I still think I'm fairly kind and giving but I just think we should draw the line at beggars.
