My day is relatively low-key: I'm feeling the heat from procrastinating on my proof-reading gig, and so am trying to up the productivity. M has been working seven days straight this week (he has pretty punishing course work on most weekends until March), and has an incredibly sore throat. As spectacular timing would have it, he also has a really important fitness test this upcoming Thursday (it'll give him the push to move on to a job which he would actually really enjoy), but his training has been seriously hampered by the whole working-long-hours-every-day-and-being-r
However, today hasn't been all about staring at laptop screens and re-writing the saccharine messages on the talk hearts into subversive ones. Here is my unusual v-day plea: As some of you might know, I have this random genetic syndrome called "Gorlin's Syndrome," and was diagnosed with it when I was fourteen. While there are other quirks and fun stuff associated with it, it's primarily known for bringin' the (*thankfully*, non-melanoma) basal cell skin cancer, and I have it like whoa. I've had countless excisions over the years, and they've all gone well, thus leading me to be overly-cheerful, far too cavalier, and to spout ridiculous stuff like "scars are like tattoos, but with far better stories." Over the past few years, however, I've started to have much more intensive surgeries (Moh's surgery) to remove the more nasty, aggressive bits of cancer, and now I sport more prominant scars on my neck (I could play a crime victim on one of those crime shows, and with half the usual make-up budget! haha), scalp and sides of my face. This January, I went in for what I thoguht would be a straightforward, quick Moh's surgery near my left eye...and as it turned out, ended up with a skin graft- -a "o hai! surprise skin graft!" of sorts. I suppose we all celebrate the new year in our own special ways, eh? While I'm still getting used to the graft (and thankfully, it has taken, and is healing really well), it did shake my confidence. For the past six months, I've had a tiny lesion on the lower rim of my left eye, and I just received the biopsy results today, confirming that it's basal cell cancer, and that I'll require reconstructive eye surgery. It will be a joint surgery between Dr. Khanna and the ocular specialist. Usually, I can approach my surgeries with humour, gratitude, and perspective...but I'm really shaken up about this. I mean, ~*~reconstructive eye surgery~*~... I've been feeling incredibly panicky and embarrassingly teary. And, as much as I'm trying to block them out, insidious negative thoughts like, "I'm so ugly already, and now *this*?!"/"Who would ever be attracted to someone who looked like me?"/etc... keep creeping in. I know that my surgery experiences downright pale in comparison to many of yours', and I'm a little ashamed to even be feeling so distraught, but I would really, really appreciate any gems of wisdom, surgery-coping advice, or even just comforting thoughts and/or bits of hilarity.
Thank you muchly!! A million heaps of subversive talk hearts to you!!