Cutting and Pasting

While waiting in the operating room at the doctors office last week for my skin cancer surgery on the nose, the doctor burst into the room (I could have been naked, for God's sake!) jumped up on the operating table (there were two, in case one had been used by the staff for loving earlier) and started into a chorus of "I'm In Love With You Dear", dancing along the edges of the table with that look in his eye, and then took me by the collar and said "ok, kid, let's get to your goodies".

I plotzed (no cream), not wanting to be a part of another circumcision scam (like that awful barbershop in '05), when Doctor Popeil laughed and said "hey, we always do that, it makes the clients more at ease. What I meant by your 'goodies' was not THAT, but rather, my boy, your skin cancer on the nose. Now just lay back, and enjoy".

I was relieved. I put my things back in my pants (even though I've been circumcised seven times, I figured I'd have another, and then we could squeeze off the skin cancer. I'm no fool. Once I stuffed my three things back into my pants, I took off my burka (the lady at my Islamic toilet told me I should wear it for good luck...it was hard to see through the slits, though) and laid back for a nice and easy nose cancer operation.

There are probably some of you who would like to know more details before the mini-series comes out. OK. Friends, it really went well. A week ago yesterday the cancer was removed from my nose and they only had to go in one time. Beforehand, I was told that it might take two or three diggins' to get it all. But Poppy (my new name for my new hero) got it all on the first try. No pain, but there was a feeling of uncomfortableness, but the only real pain was the injecting of the anestetic with the meat grinder.

After the cancer was out, he said it was time to do a little plastic surgery. So, again, I took out my goods, resigned to another circumcision (I just don't have any will power). But the doctor said, "no Joe, we're just going to harvest a little skin from your smileline, and patch up the nose with that". Right at that moment, the saleslady from International Harvester walked in and tryed to sell us a tractor. But Dr. Popeil said no, this was a small thing, and I said try my toilets downtown. My people always are looking for a good tractor ride after morning plop plops (that and an ice cold Coke).

And after we were all done (some of the above is untrue) I was bandaged quite literally over 2/3rd's of my face, instructed on how to care for the wounds, and then kicked down the stairs when I told them I forgot my wallet. To be right, I was very fortunate in finding this doctor. He works in a major practice, and when I first went there and said I had no insurance, he said he understood, and we could work out a payment plan.

I nearly kicked out my jams. And jellies too! This ain't a political blog today, Mommy, but it shows that given the chance, humans are decent caring beings, and DO NOT need the government to force them to be that, there. But you all know my views on ObamaCare.

It's a week and a day out now, all the bandages are off, and, well, I must say I looking stunning. And I mean that in a good way. When he took the bandages off yesterday, I could see that I had been in the hands of of a true medical talent. The little line that was made when he took skin from my smile line was thin (red, but that will go away) and looks like it will heal almost without barely a smidge of a scar. And the nose, now scrubbed of cancer, looks great. I will have to medicate these two wounds for probably weeks, and I will see Daddy next week for a check.

I'm a happy boy. I think I'll skip around the block.

Joe