So I had a ‘spot’ thing by my collarbone. Dark. Sinister looking. Didn’t bother me but Mel thought it seriously affected my normal ‘perfection of beauty’ so I was sent to a ‘skin dude’. Who stuck a microscope on my chest and declared it was ‘nothing’, just some blood vessels. And we all need them. “However…” he said as he roamed around my torso with the scope stuck on his eye, “this mole down here is not so good…” Oh. I have one hundred and twenty six moles and he found a ‘dud’ one.

“I need to remove it and have it tested”. Ok, when? Well I’m fully booked but I’ll come in early next week (ie: today) before my clinic. Great. Or is it? I’m fine with routine stuff, casual checks, but when a dermatologist is prepared to leave his mansion before his staff have even arrived to dress him!!!, you have to be worried.

Took 10 minutes. I refused the local anaesthetic because I’m fuckin’ ‘ard. Ok, I didn’t, I asked for more. I asked for a general just because it feels so nice, but refused on the ground that he’s not a drug dealer. And he stitched me up and stuck on a big plaster thing and that was all easy and nice. But…

Can’t use my e-bike. Not allowed. No tai chi tomorrow. No showering for 48 hours. So if you planned to see me in the next 2 days; cancel. Though I’m allowed a ‘careful bath’. Meaning no toys, boats, ducks or splashing games. Not supposed to do lots of things, but as there’s no specific mention of ‘tennis’, I’m gonna assume that’s ok.

But as I like the dressing, I’m going to go around topless, so I can flaunt it. Looks like I’ve been stabbed. Which, actually, I have been. But just carefully, precisely and very expensively.

Happy and HEALTHY!!! Wednesday

A xxxx