This has been a week that has left me in my chair more than usual but too exhausted right now to do much with that chair time, especially scrapbook. Here's what happened:
I have had a fairly big mole on the bottom of my foot--the arch--for a while. My doctor checked it out, said it didn't look cancerous, and told me just to "keep an eye on it," an interesting prospect, for
how often do you really look at the bottom of your feet? Still, I periodically did, until I noticed this summer that the edges looked a little blurry. My doctor recommended I see a dermatologist, who recommended I get it removed. Not that they thought it was cancerous; normally, they would biopsy, then remove only if it's bad, but the doctor told me that they don't like to operate on the bottom of the foot more than once--and now that I've had that happen, I can see why.
Wednesday, the doctor showed me what she would do: she had drawn a circle around the mole, then a diamond shape around it. The diamond, she said, was how they would close the wound. She said it would be like a dart. Did I know what a dart was? Why, yes I did; I've seen
Silence of the Lambs.
The surgery was minor, though for the record, the table was made for someone SIGNIFICANTLY shorter than I am. The surgery was alright; the shots didn't hurt nearly as bad as had been warned, and I read my book through the whole procedure. I was gimpy and swollen, though, and she warned me to stay off my feet for a couple days.
Now, if you're a mother or a teacher, those are hard things to do (not just mothers and teachers, I suspect!), but I did manage to get to my car, get my boys to choir then violin then home that night.
The next morning when I got up at 5:30 like usual, I went to change the bandages like I'd been told. They were awfully red, and the more I peeled off, the fainter I got. When I saw the dart, I told my husband that I was feeling faint and I sat down. He teased me, asking if I'd be like his brother who passed out at the sight of his own blood. And that is when I passed out.
I was out for maybe five minutes. When I got up, I was still woozy and had to call in sick for the day. It took me until about 10:30 to recover fully. (We figured my fainting was a result of low blood sugar, low blood pressure, which is normal for me, and the sight of the blood and dart.) I spent the day grading and scrapbooking and off my feet, like I was supposed to.
Two days later, my foot is still sore. I've borrowed crutches from my school nurse and am glad my mom left her ice pack here when she returned home to Maine. My foot is better today, though, and I haven't passed out in a couple days, so I'm good.
Here's a page I worked on while I have been chairbound:
I collected all of the reading photos of my boys from this past summer on this page. (My favorite photo is the one of my son asleep after reading Shel Silverstein, a bedtime favorite of his!) I used the remnants of my
September Studio Calico kit on this page. Almost done with that kit! I'll post the journaling later for you to read it. I love this story.
ETA: Here's the journaling:
Summer of 2012 will go down in history as the summer my boys
became Readers. They fell in love with Shel Silverstein, and Dominic often fell
asleep reading him. We regularly went to the library, mostly visiting the
graphic novels. Dominic fell in love with the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series and
begged to buy the copy he could never find at the library. I agreed and told
Rowan I’d get him a book too, but it had to be a chapter book. He grumped but eventually picked The Unwanted, and he’s just
about done, a rarity for him and chapter books. This fall they kept reading,
both boys returning to their unfinished Harry Potter books and still going back
to the library for more. In the words of the Doctor, “You want weapons? We’re in
a library! Books! The best weapons in the world!”
