Unexpected Ear Surgery, Part III (conclusion)

I should be at the hospital getting my ear surgery about now. But I’m not. I’m sitting here at home typing this post. No, I didn’t chicken out. I received the medical equivalent of “Bank Error in Your Favor” and I did indeed jump back and almost lost my top hat.

The doctor called me and said he had finally heard back from the lead pathologist and melanoma expert at UCLA. This opinion apparently trumped the opinions of the regular pathologist and a dermatologist. I’m not really sure what the doctor pecking order is, and I don’t care. But I think they use some type of Rock/Paper/Scissors system. I’m just happy not to have to be put under and have a knife stuck in my ear again.

The lead pathologist thought the surgery was unnecessary at this time and thought careful clinical follow up will suffice for now. The growth was benign and didn’t even show signs of melanoma, so there was nothing to be concerned about at this time. Woo-hoo!

I felt my whole body relax. Wow. No more of Michael Jackson’s favorite anesthesia. No more of the doctors and nurses mentioning that it was his favorite. No skin graft. No tube in my ear for a week. But no getting out of childcare for a few days. Oh well, it’s a fair exchange.

The call came right after my wife had rearranged her entire work schedule around my surgery and recovery. She then proceeded to call everyone back. I’m not sure if her boss thought she made the whole thing up or not, but that’s her problem.

So I have to go to the ear doctor every three months to be monitored. No problem.

Truth be told, I’m not really sure what freaked me out more. The anesthesia was something I was a bit frightened and anxious about. Visions of everything from complications and alien abductions to the ending of The Sixth Sense all had me quite uneasy.

But was that really it? Probably not. The real uneasiness was feeling my sense of mortality. I’ve felt it before, and I don’t like it. It sobers you, makes you think and makes you realize your time on this planet is finite. It’s like getting a reminder card from the Grim Reaper.

But come on, only old people have surgeries. They’re not for people like us, right? People who use the internet don’t have surgeries. We’re too young, hip, and on the cutting edge… I have an iPhone! But after the denial wore off I just wanted it over with. Again. For the third time. Luckily there was no third time. I can now go back to my regularly scheduled blissful, ignorant denial of my mortal coil. Who’s with me?