Friday I had to have surgery for two bits of skin that potentially could have been (keeping fingers crossed) a problem. One was a tiny crescent shaped mole on my chest – no problem and I could care less what it looks like. The other unfortunately was part of my lower lip.
Then I had a choice: stay in for a couple of weeks so as not to expose others to my changed appearance and huge, fat lip, or live life – never guess what I chose. The reactions have been interesting: those who don’t know me of course notice nothing; those who do automatically presume that I have fallen, yet again, and split my lip.
No bandage, just a split lip with stitches. During surgery I was not allowed to talk part of the time and of course had to laugh at an image in my mind whilst the doctor was stitching up the lip. When he asked afterwards what had been so funny, I told him: I felt like a fish that had been caught, hook, line and sinker.
Less funny is the necessity to not get said lip wet. Didn’t have time to make an appointment with the hairdresser so my housemate got pulled into shampoo duty. My hair is clean – as is the rest of the bathroom!
Somehow I don’t think this is what we had in mind when we talk about our “adventures”.
|Shampoo the hair? What about the bathroom too?|