It's no surprise to anyone that I asked a zillion questions before, after, and DURING the surgery. I asked to see each mass as he removed them, that is, I asked him beforehand. I did rely on my meditation podcasts during the actual cutting part. Agh. In fact, I asked so many questions that he was not at all surprised when I asked if I could take a picture of one. His chuckle sort of said, "I expected you to ask."
This surgeon has virtually no bedside manner, is quite dry and knows nothing about modesty. Example. One of the masses was on my upper thigh. So they lay me out with my sleeveless shirt on and just panties, with a sheet over my waist-to-feet. He removes the 2 masses from my arms first and then has me roll over so he can incise my thigh. Moving the sheet, he places it on my calves. Hello? Could you possibly cover my, possibly, my butt? Notice it? The rather large round thing right in your FACE? There's room. It would not interfere. What obscure culture are you from, where modesty covers the CALF?
I knew about his klutziness beforehand, though, from the initial evaluation, and anticipated such behavior. I considered wearing a THONG and using a Sharpie to put a happy face on my buttocks, but, alas, I ran out of time.
I shouldn't mock the man. He removed them expertly with little pain for me. Of course I asked if I could take a pic.
1.9 centimeters in diameter. Although I thought one was larger, one was smaller, and one was medium, they were all about the same size, and just felt different depending on how deep they were. I had one removed a few years ago and it was diagnosed as an angiolipoma. They think these are, too.Yes, it's gross. But as you know, I am the Curious Writer.
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