A Completely Non-Scientific Note

So I've had a mole removed. Hopefully this will be the only one, as I'm not particularly fond of the implications.

I'm a pale kid. I don't tan (intentionally or otherwise), I wear sunscreen almost all the time if I'm not covered up, and I don't mind that my skin could probably be described as "alabaster". 200 years ago, that was sexy, right? I'm a pale, brownish-red haired, slightly freckled girl with tanned blondes for a mother and sister.

Honestly, the worst part was after they put in the anesthetic and waited for it to kick in. I must have been lying on my stomach, with my butt exposed to the world, for a good 20 minutes. I don't have butt issues, per se, but I'd prefer to not to be lying prone on an exam table with only a hospital gown preserving my dignity. When they were actually cutting it out, we talked about prions (apparently they factored greatly into this past season of 24), Swine Flu, and hummus. I could feel pressure on my back, mostly when they were stitching me up, but it didn't hurt. Apparently, people believe that when you get anesthetized, you can't feel anything. People, you'll feel pressure, but it won't hurt.

The mole was on my back, slightly above where a bra or bikini strap would rest, and tiny. But it was slightly star-shaped. Like Star of Bethlehem, not a sticker you got on your spelling test in the 3rd grade. And apparently it was deep, deep enough to warrant a subcutaneous stitch, as well as the nice collection I've got holding my back together.


I've had stitches before and have no issue cleaning them and I can deal. These, however, are driving me nuts. They're at the exact place on my back that I cannot reach, so I have to rely on others to clean them for me. And they itch like crazy (my back hurts a little, as well, but the itching is more annoying). I'm also incredibly paranoid that I'm going to inadvertently rip these out. Or have them ripped out by my cat, who is a terrorist and has a penchant for jumping at my back anyway. I had to move seats twice at dinner to get away from him, as he kept jumping behind my chair and twice got his claws into my back -- nowhere near the stitches, but enough to make me incredibly anxious.

So that's all that's new right now. I'm sure I'll have something to say about work and research once I get back to the 'Burg.