I didn’t write about this last month because I was dealing with a depression that made me unable to put the right words to things but I’m feeling like I’m coming out of the dark now (KNOCK ALL OF THE WOOD) so now I can tell you that my body is trying to kill me, but incredibly slowly…which is probably just the natural process of aging, now that I think about it?
Anyway, I was trying very hard to make good decisions so I went to the doctor and he was like, “You need to see some specialists and also eat more high-fiber greens and less meat” and an hour later – following his advice and making good decisions – I broke a tooth eating a fucking kale salad.
My friend Vicky was like, “Weird. Did you massage the kale first?” and I said “no” because what?
Apparently kale is naturally tough and you are supposed to massage it before eating it to break down the fibers but it seems ridiculous to force me to give an intimate massage to something I don’t even like, and also, I thought the fiber was the whole point of why I was having to eat it in the first place? So basically I have to pamper something that tastes like dirt or it breaks all of my teeth, which feels weirdly abusive and 100% the opposite of how health food is supposed to work.
Then I went to my optometrist and she was like, “You need computer glasses” and I was like, “YOU NEED COMPUTER GLASSES” and then I realized she wasn’t insulting me and she made me get these special glasses for reading and working but they have this weird distortion and every time I move my head it feels like I’m on a boat and now I’m getting carsick just writing this. She also said that I should go back to my doctor and have him check me for Sjogren’s Syndrome and Graves Disease and those both sound bad and also possibly like something I’ve already tested positive for because I literally have so many diseases and disorders that I can’t even keep track of them. And I should totally get tested for them and that’s why I’m writing this down so I remember to eventually but I’m at that space where I have no energy. Also, I realize that maybe I have no energy because of one of those diseases I’m too tired to get tested for and am basically my own worst enemy.
In my defense though, I did go the dentist, optometrist, arthritis doctor, psych doctor, regular doctor and then my regular doctor was like, “I want you to see a dermatologist because of these discolorations on your face” and the dermatologist was like, “Oh, it’s just melasma but you actually have a scary looking mole here and maybe we cut that off immediately to check it?” and he did and then called me and was like, “Well, it’s pre-cancerous” and I was like, “Awesome!” because I assumed my whole body was pre-cancerous because that means “before cancer” and that sounds good, but he was like, “Not really ‘awesome‘, precisely. But really awesome we got it off because it definitely would have turned cancerous and you need to come back in so we can make sure we got it all off and it isn’t growing back because if it is we may need to do something else.” This sounded lightly threatening so I dealt with it by not thinking about it all until every night from 1am to 4am when I thought about nothing else.
BUT! I just got back from the dermatologist and he said it looks like it’s healing well and not growing back yet so I am breathing a tentative sigh of relief until 1am when I will convince myself that my dermatologist was drunk or that he needs computer glasses.
So long story short, kale will kill you, computer glasses are for the birds, SPF 15 is not acceptable according to my doctor and all of you need to go get your moles checked because I literally didn’t even know this was a thing I was supposed to do until now. Also, someone please remind me to get checked for that other junk eventually because I need a few weeks to recover from all of this excitement.
PS. They gave me some skin bleaching creme for my melasma but it isn’t totally working so instead maybe I’ll just push all of my hair to the front to cover my right cheek and then cover my left one with a face tattoo or a more manageable dog who understands commands like, “stop wiggling and perch on my shoulder like a good girl.” If you see me in public, please be assured that it is not dirt and that I am now lightly regretting the fact that lipstick is the only makeup I ever learned how to use.
PPS. I didn’t dye my hair blonde. I actually dye it brown a few times a year but the back never takes so it’s brown-grey in the front and blonde-grey in the back for no reason at all. Even my hair can’t get it together.
