When I got the news from my dermatologist, my mind instantly flashed back to my days as a lifeguard and pool manager in Omaha. Those were the days of baby oil and lemon juice as sun accelerators. If only I’d known better. Decades of unprotected golf didn’t help either.
Ellen and Reid took the news well by phone, and they are hopeful of a good result. I’m hopeful – and confident – too.
January 12, 2015
Ellen/Reid: Suffice to say, last week wasn’t one of the better ones in recent memory.
I’m supposed to hear from the surgeon by mid-week and the dermatologist says I am to call her if I don’t hear from the guy. She really did a pretty nice job of breaking the news. That she called it a ‘thin melanoma’ was about all I needed to hear. That told me things could be worse and that it appears to be caught fairly early. .48 doesn’t sound very deep but it seemed plenty deep enough for me. It was something of dumb luck that I’d noticed the thing on my forearm and called, almost on a whim, and got in quickly due to a cancellation. Perhaps that’s divine providence. Friday night was spent at Macs, sipping on a Guinness and researching what I could about it. After 20 minutes of such, I’d had enough. According to the dermatologist, the surgery should occur sometime in the next couple weeks. There’s no idea of what it entails or how long I’ll be on the shelf from regular activities. It was really good to talk to you both about it, and you handled it better than your old man.
I got up a little earlier than normal on Saturday, about 5 a.m., and tried to have ‘the talk’ with the Almighty as I walked along. I’m not very formal or very good at it. It was more of a one-sided conversation. My request wasn’t for healing, but for strength and patience. Later in the day I played golf with a couple friends and pushing the cart was therapeutic. Golf was a good thing in that I didn’t want to sit around moping or surrendering to this thing, no matter how early in the process it is. I’m still heading to Florida this week for the Sailfish Smackdown although Dave is having no luck finding a rental fishing kayak.
If he can’t, we’ll collect our ‘free’ tee shirts at the Captain’s reception on Friday night. I told him it didn’t bother me in the slightest to forego the tournament. Half the fun would’ve been paddling together in what would have likely been a fruitless attempt to catch a fish. We’ll find somewhere else to fish from a motorized boat and we might hire a guide, too. It really doesn’t faze me to not go on the open ocean.
I hope you guys have a good time in Mexico. It really sounds fun, and I laughed at your comment, Ellen, that you wouldn’t leave your beach chair. Just be sure to use sunscreen. Ha. Looking at the temperatures up your way this morning, the warmth can’t come a moment too soon. It’s good that you’ll be with your mother because she will do things the right way. You’ll be in the air while I’m on the road to FLA-USA. Be sure to send pics.
It’s dreary here today; rain and cold. But it’s January and one would suppose that’s how it should be. The temps should start a slow warm-up in the next couple of weeks as the days get progressively longer. At least that’s the hope.
I’m sending a newspaper article from the Observer this morning to Mark Cady. It’s a column from a North Carolina supreme court member warning us of the politicization of our court system from our friends on the Right. In particular she objects to the influence of outside money to turn the courts more conservative. She thinks the general populace objects to this interference, and I hope she’s right. Perhaps that outside overreach is the worst news of the week.