17 November 2022

Our dreams are the deepest breath we draw


Our dreams are the deepest breath we draw

This is a line from a song by Irish singer Eoghan Ó Ceannabháin (Owen O'Canavan for all the non-Irish speakers like me).

Over the past four weeks I had three surgeries on my forehead, first to take a sample, then to take out a small tumor and then to take out more tumor after which the hole was stitched up. All in all, the tumor was the size of maybe a pea or a small bean according to the surgeon. There is still doubt as to what type of tumor, a tricky type I have been told, but most likely it's all out. Right now, the stitches are healing very well and hopefully will come out early next week. The hole has a diameter of a five Euro cent coin (22 mm) and this has been covered with skin stretched across and up/down my forehead. I now know what it feels like to have a face lift. Goodness, there are actually women who do this voluntarily?

Today when they changed the bandage, I looked in the mirror for the first time because the young nurse told me that it looks kind of Goth, like an upside down cross. And it does. Still all crusty and black and blue and red but I've been told it will all heal nicely. The nerves just below my hairline are all numb but I've been told that they will recover. 

A bit over a year ago, I had noticed a tiny hard lump on my forehead when I put cream on it. Being who I am I picked on it, absentmindedly mostly, and it started to bleed and I got mad for doing this and then it took ages to close up because it looked kind of deep and cratery. Then it healed up and was gone until it wasn't. And the whole circle started again, me picking and then bleeding and healing, I forget how many times. Also, slow healing of small nicks and cuts is a very common side effect of my immune suppression therapy. So, it took me a while to get myself to a doctor.

Except for two days when there was a steady stream of blood trickling down my face (excellent Halloween disguise!), I went to work and managed to pretend that all was hunky dory. But the nights, another story.

Anyway, almost all done for now. I have plans, starting next week, I am going places. Stay tuned.

And here is the song. 


12 comments:

Pixie said...

Well, hopefully they got it all and you heal nicely. A worry though.
I'm the same way for picking at things, I just can't stop.
The music is lovely.

NewRobin13 said...

I hope the healing goes well for you, Sabine. I'm looking forward to reading about your future plans. Take care there and stay safe and healthy.

Elizabeth said...

I'm sorry you've been through another ordeal and hope that it heals quickly. I enjoyed listening to the music while I read --

Ms. Moon said...

Be well, Sabine. Heal and be well.

ellen abbott said...

If only our bodies didn't go haywire. I had a lump on my nose that I thought was a pimple. Not. It bled then healed, I picked at it again and it bled. I did get to the dermatologist who scooped it out and had to go back for more scooping but it was a tiny hole compared to yours, only took two stitches.

So glad they got yours and it's healing.

Bathwater said...

Sounds like it went as well as expected. We never think a small bump is anything until it is something.

Linda Dev said...

Glad you finally got it taken care of. Hoping you heal quickly. Love love love Irish music. I sometimes forget that you are Irish until you remind me.

Pixie said...

I listening to a couple of those podcasts you mentioned and liked them very much. I've also got her book on hold at the library. Thank you.

Steve Reed said...

Well, I'm glad you got that little tumor sorted out. I had a superficial cancer taken off my forehead several years ago and I remember a period of residual numbness too. It goes away so gradually that eventually it will be gone and you won't even realize it!

Roderick Robinson said...

There's this sense of benign invasion when a masked someone takes a sharp instrument and cuts into flesh that was previously yours and is now taken away. I admire your detached prose and hope I can match it in a few weeks' time when I am promised a scar that starts behind my left ear and describes a 10 cm apostrophe ending somewhere on my neck. I am told the after-effects will disappear quite quickly however unlikely this seems. A previous biopsy on my cheek, some years ago, which turned out to reveal nothing, had me asking the surgeon (I was of course under local not general anaesthetic) whether the resultant scar would add character to my face. I realised this was presumptuous given that "add" implied character already existed.

I wish you well from the depths of my ancient body. As to the music the cello should be used more often, especially for folk music, as here. It adds poignancy and body without risking mush.

Colette said...

Ouch! Sorry about that. I had some skin cancer carved out of my face to the side between my nose and my mouth. It has left an inch long scar which over time is barely noticeable. My granddaughter wants to "teach" me how to cover it with makeup. I suppose it's hard for her to understand that I don't care. Best wishes.

molly said...

Missed this one - I hope it's all healed by now. With my Irish skin and the foolish sun worshipping of my youth I've paid in lumps and bumps on my skin, some benign, one not so. Good luck - I hope it heals well. Just being with family will help I'm sure.