i.e., JUST LIKE HAVING YOUR TONSILS REMOVED, IF YOUR TONSILS WERE ON YOUR FACE
So! The dermatologist called this morning and the verdict is in: superficial basal cell carcinoma (= skin cancer). Word on the street is that it doesn't spread internally, so if left alone it would only continue to mutate on my face. Which would be nice for you the world, right? But not so much for my face. Any way you crack it I am the opposite of looking forward to this (if you are squeamish, do not click through, do not click through!). Moral of the story? Get those bumps and moles checked, kids! They are not the friends you think they are.
NOTHING ALIEN OR SCARY, LA-DI-DA OR AIRY-FAIRY
I'm obsessed with this song from Keating! The Musical and have been listening to it nonstop since I got back from Chicago. I'm posting it here because it's a nice song for a Friday, not because I have made a sudden cancer-driven U-turn towards the lord, as the title might imply. Let's not be crazy. Though should the fine folks at Blue Cross/Blue Shield decline to cover any part of this, I will be considering one of several offers from the devil. I am huge with the underground.