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Good news!

2010-03-15 - 1:33 p.m.

First things first: not skin cancer. Yay!

The official diagnosis was ďspitz nevusĒ (pronounced spits knee-vsss Ė apparently very fast and run-together as if it was one word). Wikipedia has this to say about it, but itís not very illuminating and the most interesting parts are that it is usually developed by children and is actually rarer than skin cancer.

The only real red flag it raised with my skin-cancer doctor was that, while Spitz nevi are not cancer and are not considered to be a pre-cancerous condition, they are unpredictable and can turn cancerous suddenly. The treatment is therefore similar to what youíd expect had a melanoma been found: once a year I have to have my skin checked for suspicious bumps and growths, and if they find any other nevi they have to cut them out. This one was excised completely so I didnít have to have any more cut out, but a small rough patch on my lower lip now has 6 weeks to resolve itself or my doctorís taking a tissue sample of it too.

Thatís right. A tissue sample FROM MY FACE! Iím looking forward to that about as much as you can imagine, especially considering the size of the crater she took from my leg. She tried to reassure me that she wouldnít need to take as much and that faces heal faster than legs, but Iím hoping that my lip smoothes out again before the end of April all on its own. I have to admit itís not likely though, since it was what got me referred to the specialist in January and Iíd had it for a couple of months at that point.



Last week I took and afternoon off so I could spend some time with my husband. Guilty as I sometimes feel about all the time I spend away from my kids, I freely acknowledge that the one who gets the shaft the most, my-time-wise, is my poor significant other. We went to see that Percy Jackson movie (The Lightning Thief). My verdict: the effects are fantastic and the acting abilities of the older, supporting cast far outstrip those of the younger main characters. The writing was a bit cheesy as well. Still, we werenít looking for anything heavy or too chick-flick-y, so this fit the bill in those respects.


Last night I dreamt I was sitting next to Rob Rummel-Hudson in a meeting on accommodation standards, telling him as an aside that he should have come to Weetacon this year. Clearly my subconscious thinks my real life and online life are colliding.


A scene from the Weetacon:

Me (to Chad): Iím not going to limbo. No way. The limbo just isnít my thing.

Fellow Weetacon reveller in the crowd: Bruce! Get in there!

Me (to Chad): Hold my drinkÖ

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