It’s not cancer.

Do you ever notice that the older you get, the more your body plays mean tricks on you by constantly growing weird and gross things on it? About a month ago I started growing this… thing on my face, right next to my left eye. I didn’t think much of it at first, and chalked it up to too much stress and not enough sleep, etc., and figured it would go away eventually.

But the damn thing kept getting larger and larger and people started staring and pointing at it. Eventually I was going to have to give it a name. (Did you ever see the film “How to get ahead in Advertising?” It was getting to be that bad, at least in my mind.) Finally I made an appointment with my Dermo to get it checked out this morning.

“Hello there. What can I do for… ooooooh.” She then says that she has some great news for me, and that monstrous growth on my face is called a Xewrgioywyreuygherwutwettr (or something like that) and that it’s benign.

Benign? I wasn’t even thinking it was cancerous. Just butt ugly.

“What causes it?” I ask.

“Nobody knows.”


“I’d like to freeze it off, which should take care of it. Plus, you won’t have to have surgery and shots that way.”

Surgery!? WTF?! Yes, please just freeze it off please and thank you.

I sat somewhat still with only a minor bit of trembling and tried to be very brave while having that liquid nitro canister right up in my face, all the while trying not to cry and think about how close that was to my eyeball and whether or not I was going to walk out of Kaiser afterwards sporting an eye patch.

All went well after what seemed to take forever. However, freezing it only made it even larger and more disgusting until it scabs up and fall off in the next few days, or maybe a week. If it’s still there in two weeks, I’m supposed to call her back and come in for another round of  frozen eyesicle.

Meanwhile, it’s all I can see now through that left eye which is driving me bat shit crazy. After running a few errands later this afternoon and encountering more than a few folks who really didn’t want to make eye contact with me, I have decided that I am going to be an anti-social shut in for the next few days until Dennis (I had to name it now) and I part company or my eyeball falls out and I get that eye patch after all.

So depending on how things go I may be watching the Superbowl by myself this year with my 22 month-old son, who doesn’t seem to mind daddy having a third eye. But that’s OK. I get to actually watch the commercials in relative peace and quiet that way, with my one good eye. I’ll just have to be sure to give the pizza guy an extra-large tip.

Go Giants!

About Thomas Kelleher

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