Friday, July 17, 2009

Bad Week Alert

I've had a bad week. For the third time in eight months, I had to have a large cyst cut out of my eyelid. It's called a chalazion and it sound a lot prettier than it looks. This process (I hope you're eating breakfast) consists of numbing the eyelid repeatedly with a large needle, then flipping the eyelid inside out, draining the lesion with a sharp instrument and then cutting the tissue away. ALL WHILE THE VICTIM IS AWAKE AND STONE COLD SOBER. I mean, give a girl a little Vicodin if you're going to torture her in the manner of the ancient Mayan civilization.

So upon suffering this indiginity and fruitlessly begging them to stop mid-procedure, my eye patch and I returned home and starting researching why this condition keeps recurring. It's then, thanks to Google, I was able to diagnose myself with a very rare cancer called sebaceous cell carcinoma, which "often masquerades as chronic chalazia." Boy, would those ophthalmologists at Northwestern feel stupid when I pointed out they clearly missed that I was dying! I thought of the huge lawsuit my husband would bring against them once I was gone. At least the girls would be taken care of for life, I comforted myself as I laid awake pondering how I would spend my last few months on Earth. (At the Sesame Street Beaches resort on Turks and Caicos).

I bullied my way into an appointment with the attending physician (residents were clearly not up to the task of diagnosing this rare disease, I reasoned) and calmly explained that I was dying and could she please verify that I in fact have this sebaceous cell carcinoma, which by the way I'm not sure how to pronounce so I had to spell it for her.

The good news: I'm not dying! (I bet doctors hate the advent of Google...) You'd think the knowledge one is not dying would put one in a celebratory mood and one would be thankful one is alive and well. You'd be wrong. Because the bad news is I have this chronic condition and may have to face this procedure in the future and frankly death looks like the better option. I hinted that I may need an itsy bitsy something in the realm of a narcotic if I have to go through it again and she said we'd "worry about that bridge when we have to cross it." Clearly she never crossed the bridge of having a snotty-nosed resident half her age digging enthusiastically into eyelid with all her wits about her.

In other bad news: The gal who waxes my eyebrows decided to wax them all off. I only have half an eyebrow over my left eye. Perhaps she was drunk? Mad at me? Went blind and the salon owner felt bad laying her off? I've been going to her for over a year so not sure what that was about. Of course I didn't say anything except, "Oh, looks great! Thanks!" because I'm rather nonconfrontational in those situations and find it more productive to come home and yell at my husband for something completely unrelated.

There is also a slight chance one of the girls has a broken toe, my car seems to be on the fritz and Reid was voted off The Bachelorette. You can bring ME coffee, Honey Bear! Good thing I'm not a recovering crack addict because I'm pretty sure if I was I'd be headed to the nearest dealer asap.


  1. Sorry you're having such a bad week! My mom also had a chalazion (sounds like chillaxin', but lazier) and if it's any consolation it's been years without reoccurance. She was doped up for her procedure. Although she was a hippie back in the day, so it may not have been perscribed...

    Um... why is Reid's mouth open so very, very wide? Is he shocked? Because that's a tad over-dramatic. Is he yawning? Because that's a tad escessive. Is he a loud talker? Because the volume on my tv didn't indicate he was. Was there a tonsil inspection? Because I must've missed that part.

    If Honey Bear brings you a coffee I call dibs on a grande, non-fat (who am I kidding, full-fat, just like me)Tazo Chai Latte. Hold the whip. (insert innuendo here)

  2. I'm especially sorry about your eyebrow. It's one of my fears, which is why I don't do the waxing thing.

    That, and I'm afraid it would rip my tender Irish skin right off my body.

  3. Your eyebrow waxer has chronic chalazia and just had that procedure done as well. Her eyepatch affected her depth perception and she done fucked you up. Sue her ass.

  4. Our doctor totally accuses me of looking things up on the internet. Especially when I disagree with him (in a non-confrontational way, of course). Sorry about your eyebrows. Mine took forever to grow back.

  5. My husband has a reoccuring ear condition called a "cholesteatoma". He's had 4 surguries in the last 3 years. These surgeries entail cutting off his ear, flapping it back, digging out the growth, rebuilding his hearing bones and eardrum, and then sewing his ear back on. The last time, they actually removed his canal wall so they can "flush" it out next time...rather than cutting off his ear.

    But he gets to be put to sleep :-)

    In other words, I do pitty you for your eyebrow. At least the waxer could have made you look pretty in your patch!

  6. sorry you are having a bad week. sorry about your eye and eyebrows. i pluck my own and i stay away from Web M.D. i am always convinced i'm dying when i research my symptoms. have a peaceful weekend and take care.

  7. Wow! You have had a bad week. And I was gonna bitch slap you for not writing enough this week. As if I am the boss of you! I hope you look better (feel, I mean, feel better) by the time I see you later this week. Cause, truth be told, I am shallow.

    I am esp. sorry about your brows. Stef had the same thing happen two days before she was on th Today Show. She came over to my house, almost in tears, pointed to her half a brow and said "That bitch, Baby Kim, fucked me....she really fucked me!" (I kid you not, her actual name is Baby Kim)

  8. Yikes, what a week! I've been cranky, but no one's been digging around in my eyelids. And any unattractive eyebrows are entirely my fault.

    I hope you're looking and feeling better soon!

  9. Wow. You have had a bad week. I'm glad your funny bone is still intact. You're my modern day Erma Bombeck.

  10. Oh my goodness... things are just not going that good with you! I'm sorry about your eye, but am glad it's nothing too too serious, right? You have to look on the bright side! FYI, I was at my eye doctor's last week, too, because I had this growth thingy on my eyeball, and it turns out I have something called pingecula. But it's not serious, so phew! AND OMG trauma about your eyebrows!!! SORRY!