January 01 '05 |
|
Volume 448 |
Skin Cancer Not
Back Surgery
Mark
Twain is credited with having first made the comment, "Rumors of my death
are greatly exaggerated," but what he actually stated is, "The report of
my death is an exaggeration." James Clemens, a cousin of Mark Twain, (Samuel
Langhorne Clemens) had died following a long illness, and a rumor circulated
that it was Mark Twain, himself, who had expired.
I can partly identify with the situation Mark Twain found himself in after
a New York Times reporter found him alive and well in London, for I have
recently had to quash a rumor that I was recovering from back surgery. On
the Saturday before Christmas, Floyd McCullough stopped by to check on me,
and I used the Twain quote in greeting him, when he commented that I was
getting about quite well following surgery.
The next morning, several men at church inquired about my back surgery. I
thanked each for his concern and affirmed I was having some back pain but
explained I had not undergone surgery on my back. The confusion over my situation
apparently arose from the fact that I had surgery to remove a skin cancer
one day and the following day developed a back problem.
I had a small spot on my right shoulder for probably forty years, which
didnt look like a mole and was reddish in color. About eight years
ago, I allowed a dermatologist in Greenville, MS, to remove several areas
of pre-cancerous tissue on my face.
He looked at the spot on my shoulder and commented, "Well need to keep
an eye on that."
I knew enough about moles to know if they changed color or began to grow,
then it was time to get them checked. At the time, I could cover the spot
on my shoulder with a nickel. A few months ago, I discovered a nickel
wouldnt quite cover the spot completely, but a quarter would. When
I showed the area to Dr. Montgomery, about the time he scheduled me for a
colonoscopy, he stated he didnt know what it was, but he could get
me an appointment with a dermatologist in Tupelo, who would know.
The dermatologist was reasonably certain the area was cancerous but performed
a biopsy to be sure of the type. The report came back indicating basil
cell carcinoma, a common form of skin cancer. Surgery was scheduled the
following week.
"Well do the surgery, here in the office, using local anesthesia,"
he explained.
"Local anesthesia?" I considered, silently. "That means Ill be awake
for something Id as soon not know about."
I may have felt the prick of the needle on the first of what seemed to be
a hundred or more injections, but I felt nothing as he continued. Later,
I was aware that I was being cut, but apart from the anxiousness of the moment,
I felt nothing. Neither was there any pain when an area was cauterized, but
the brief odor of burning flesh was not pleasant.
I spent the twenty or so minutes of the procedure, lying flat on my back,
my left arm stretched out beside me with my right forearm midway across my
chest, doing my best not to look at what was happening, and trying to filter
out any technical jargon exchanged by the doctor and nurses, but listening
to small talk unrelated to me and wondering if doctors can talk, slice, and
sew with any greater ability than those who presume talking on a cell phone
and driving are activities that mutually enhance each other when performed
simultaneously.
I remember being tense the entire time and wasnt made any better when
the dermatologist asked, "Do you want to see what we cut out of you?"
"Heavens no!" I shot back, while thinking of a stronger expletive.
"Well, some people do, and thats why I asked," he stated. "Well
send it to pathology to make sure we got all of it."
"You have a pretty long incision there," he continued.
Turning my head slightly, so I could see the stitches, I made a guess as
to the length of the incision, "Looks like about three inches."
"More like four," he responded matter-of-factly. "I dont think youll
want to be in any beauty contests."
"Those days are behind me, anyway," I replied, wondering why he thought someone
my age would parade bare shouldered before an audience.
He went on to explain why the incision had to be so long when the diameter
of the cancer was relatively small, "We cant just cut out a circle
and sew you up. We make an elongated football shaped incision in order to
be able to close the wound properly."
While it made sense to me, Id never given much thought to anything
other than a circular cut.
Before leaving, a nurse bandaged me and instructed me to leave the bandage
on until I showered the next morning. She also said to use peroxide and apply
an antibacterial cream each day and keep the area covered with a Telfa pad
or other bandage.
That night, I slept on my back with a small pillow supporting my right arm,
because I could feel something pulling the skin on my shoulder whenever I
lowered my arm. Since I have difficulty sleeping on my back, I made a few
attempts during the night to sleep on my left side, but that seemed to produce
discomfort involving the stitches or the bandage, so I returned to my back
position. Whatever discomfort I experienced that night was mild compared
to the nights that followed.
For the next two weeks, I was plagued with lower back pain. While I might
fall asleep in bed, by three oclock the next morning my back was hurting.
I soon discovered it didnt hurt quite as badly with me sitting in the
recliner. I tried muscle relaxers, and I tried prescription pain medications,
neither of which stopped the pain, but both enabled me to sleep a couple
of hours between medications. I even tried muscle-stretching exercises, to
no avail. Heat applications worked better than anything else, and I learned
to keep a microwavable beanbag close at hand.
After a couple of days, I was more exhausted than anything else, probably
from lack of rest. Mentally, I was not at my best, either, as I allowed my
wife to contact a chiropractor on my behalf. However, I figured if the pain
was related to my spine, perhaps a chiropractor could help. Its probably
unfair to say the chiropractor was of no help, but each time I went for a
treatment, I didnt feel any different than when I walked into the office.
After approximately ten days, I managed to stay in the bed until five
oclock each morning before getting up, heating the bean bag, and sitting
in the recliner for a couple of hours. As I write this article (12/28/04),
I'm doing better, but Im not entirely free of pain.
I have long since concluded that my lower back condition is the result of
a contracted muscle in my left hip. I base my diagnosis on the fact my condition
is similar to that which sent me to an orthopedic doctor almost thirty years
ago, who found no problems with my spine but treated me for a severely contracted
muscle in my lower back.
Periodically, I experience similar pain, and after a few days of exercise
and/or rest, I get better. Though, its taking longer than what I consider
normal, based on my past experiences, I believe I shall soon be free of pain.
If not, Ill see a specialist. Meanwhile, please tell everyone that
Ive not had back surgery, at least not yet.
Dear
Soldier
Book Of Children's Letters
Among the charitable
endeavors to support the families of soldiers deployed overseas, Barbara
Baldwin has taken the initiative to collect and publish, in book-form, letters
written by school children to our men and women in uniform. The book, Dear
Soldier, If you get hurt call my mama, consists of approximately 100
letters and a large number of full color patriotic illustrations contributed
by elementary school children from Pontotoc City and Pontotoc County schools.
Barbara Baldwin is also part of a group of volunteers who need our support
as they seek to provide plastic baggies of personal-need items to Pontotoc
Countys deployed troops. Donations and supplies are accepted at the
Chamber of Commerce and the Historical Societys Museum located in the
Town Square Post Office. Copies of the book are also available at these
locations. To order a book by mail, send $15.00 (cash or check) for each
copy desired to The Inner Sanctuary, Inc., 137 Oak Drive, Pontotoc, MS, 38863.
Be sure to include your name, street address, city, state, and zip code
information.
Having read the book, I heartily recommend it and encourage others to purchase
a copy of the book and/or help with the volunteer groups "Baggies For
Troops" initiative. The baggies help affirm our support of our soldiers,
and profits from the sale of the book go to the local chapter of the American
Legion to be used to support deployed Mississippi Troops.
Christmas
Rushed Christmas Eve - Christmas Day
It began years ago as a simple celebration. We always invited a few close
friends to our house on Christmas Eve. The children of Jerry and Dot Bell
were not too old to enjoy our own children, and Ken and Louise Prewett may
not have begun their family at the time we conceived our first Christmas
Eve party. We served a few simple refreshments and shared moments of quiet
conversation as our children, excited over the prospects of a visit from
Santa, ripped throughout the house, played video games, or watched TV, all
with childlike abandon.
At some point the adults, the Bells and Carters and the Prewetts and Carters,
began to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, nothing expensive or extravagant,
only a simple expression of love and friendship. I dont recall why
we started the gift exchange or even the year it was initiated. I only know
that as recently as Christmas Eve 2003, we still did so.
This year, the Bells spent Christmas Eve with the family of their daughter,
Leah Pair, in Tennessee, but the Prewetts came by right after attending a
church service, as did Tommy and Patsy Patterson, our neighbors. Sarah and
Felicia were also on hand, having earlier brought several "goodies" to be
consumed by our Christmas Eve guests.
Our guests had hardly arrived when the phone rang. It was Rayanne calling
to say she and her family were about to head our way to spend the night.
Initially, I considered Rayannes last minute decision as mild insanity,
and the image I conjured up of her loading the family van with children,
presents, and bags of clothes to spend the night was blurred by the speed
at which it played in my mind. However, the idea of seeing the grandchildren
open presents on Christmas morning was appealing.
Anna, our oldest granddaughter, drove her car over, bringing along her half
sisters, Merilese and Katherine. Rayanne and Anson arrived later, way later.
In fact all of our Christmas Eve guests had left by the time any of
Rayannes family arrived. Barbara and I bedded down shortly after midnight,
and were up at six on Christmas Day. In what I consider an odd occurrence,
adults were up and stirring well before any of the children. We even had
our traditional breakfast of country sausage and buttered biscuits as well
as cheddar cheese filled biscuits before the children awakened. But once
they were awake, peace and quiet and tranquil moments were gone.
Sarah and Felicia came down to participate in the exchange of gifts. Once
everyone had opened his or her gifts, it was time to start dinner. Sarah
and Felicia went back home to finish their cooking chores. Our niece, Cheryl
Radford of Southaven, MS, arrived shortly before noon, bringing still more
food. Cheryl had to brave the icy roads in her neighborhood in order to get
to the Interstate, but she made it without incident. Counting our great niece,
Brigitte Rankin and her daughter, Christmas dinner was enjoyed by thirteen
of us, and while I managed to avoid stuffing myself, I overate by eating
throughout the rest of the day.
In
the early afternoon, several of us loaded up gifts and made our rounds to
the nursing homes. First, we visited Barbaras mom, taking her a food
plate along with her gifts. Then, with Cheryl driving back to Southaven,
the rest of us traveled to Sunshine Nursing Home to visit Aunt Jo. It was
late afternoon by the time we got back home.
Rayannes family left for home after supper. Barbara and I didnt
know how exhausted we were until the next morning. Barbara managed to fulfill
her responsibilities in Sunday School, but came back home to watch the worship
service on TV in the comfort of our home. I managed to attend the worship
service, but my energy level dropped drastically afterwards. I suppose its
fair to say Barbara and I spent Sunday afternoon resting, but when folks
rush through Christmas, relaxation is sure to follow. Still, we will remember
Christmas 2004, not so much for the rushed schedule, as we will for it marking
the first time all three of our granddaughters awoke on Christmas morning
at our house.
RRN 2004 Ready
For A Limited Time
The complete year of Ridge Rider News, 2004, is ready. We dont print
them except on a demand basis. To assure print quality, each issue is printed,
not copied, using a laser printer and is bound in a quality ring binder.
Included with the issues are a cover page, preface, and a table of
contents.
It is not our desire to profit in this endeavor, only to break even. Therefore,
copies of RRN 2004 will be sold for $9.95 each plus $5.00 for mailing and
handling unless the buyer chooses to make other arrangements to pick up his
or her copy.
There are dozens of entertaining and interesting articles in this publication,
plus you will have the year's complete collection of humor from Bodock Beau.
Beau claims his columns alone are worth the price of the publication.
Whether one simply wants to share an unusual gift with others, or have convenient
access to all fifty-two issues of RRN 2004, this compilation is a bargain.
Surely, theres extra work on our part to make these copies available,
but youre worth it.
This offer void where prohibited, taxed, or restricted by law. Offer valid
only in the US. Offer valid through February 28, 2005 and may be extended,
modified, or revoked at any time during or after the introductory period.
Bodock Beau
Drinking From My Saucer
To many folks, a new year is a time to make resolutions, establish objectives,
and set new goals. To others, a new year provides the opportunity to be grateful
for the blessings we've received.
Drinking From My Saucer
I've never made a fortune, and it's surely too late now,
But I don't worry 'bout that much, I'm happy anyhow.
As I go on life's journey, reaping better than I sowed;
I'm drinking from my saucer 'cause my cup has overflowed.
I don't have lots of riches, and sometimes the going's tough;
But there are kids who love me and that makes me rich enough.
I thank God for His blessings and the mercies He's bestowed;
I'm drinking from my saucer 'cause my cup has overflowed.
I remember bad times when my faith got awfully thin,
But all at once the dark clouds broke and sunshine poured right in.
So Lord, don't let me gripe about the tough rows that I hoed,
I'm drinking from my saucer 'cause my cup has overflowed.
And if God gives me courage when the way grows steep and rough,
I'll want no other blessings, I'm already blessed enough.
And may I always stop to help another bear his load;
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer, "cause my cup has overflowed."
~ Anonymous ~ Shared by Shirley Lowry
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