Bad Patient

Hiding from the sun under a floppy hat with a pouty scowl,       

then later being buried by a toddler.       

What is it about being told you can't do something that makes it that much harder to resist? In the deep recesses of the human psyche, everyone has a primal urge to bend rules. I don't have any formal research to prove or disprove this, other than the anecdotes of others and my own experiences, but I'm guessing most people can relate.

Having no history of skin cancer in my family, or even that many moles to speak of, I assumed my overall risk was fairly low. In any event, I decided this year I would finally go for a screening. It felt like something I should do as a responsible adult, along with recycling, investing, and backing up files to the cloud.

To my surprise, I had one case of mild dysplasia. Since its a very low risk this type of mole would ever evolve into anything more serious, the dermatologist gave me the option to excise it, or to leave it alone and monitor for changes. Not wanting to risk the wrath of future Carla if this thing ever became an issue, I went ahead with the excision.

The whole procedure lasted all of 9 minutes, with an added 10 minutes spent sparring with the dermatologist about activity restrictions that would follow for the next 2 weeks. This is where the struggle begins between the rational, educated, healthcare provider, evidence based part of my brain and the defiant, fitness enthusiast, autonomous, stubborn part - the part that I try to keep in check.

Its true that you don't always appreciate all the things your body is capable of until a restriction is placed upon it. The most distressing part of every injury I've sustained has always been the immediate realization that my life (which is happiest when active and in motion) will be put on pause for any given number of days or weeks to heal. I'll survive the next 2 weeks, and can certainly appreciate how trivial this whole ordeal is compared to the restrictions one might face with a more complex procedure.

All the same, its going to be a cranky couple of days around here until I'm back on my grind. Though, after reading a few disturbing posts on the #livestrong message board relaying the horrors of burst stitches and delayed healing time, I'm going to try and be a good patient.

Not All Talk Is Cheap

This was part of an ad posted in the subway. It was eye catching, not only because I had a 17 minute wait for the G train to peruse my surroundings, but also because it speaks a certain truth.