metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- dysplastic nevis I dreamed about Frank Sinatra again. I wonder if Frank is trying to channel through me. He thinks I owe him money. This is his second try to collect in the last month. Oh, what does it all mean? He is going to play hell to get a penny of it. He's dead and all debts are paid in full. Move on, Frankie. Move on. I am having a meaning of life crisis. Well, maybe not crisis - more like a debate. What am I doing? Where am I going? Where am I right now? I went to dermatologist for a check up. I had moles and spots I was concerned about. He looked at my moles I had preliminarily diagnosed as "ancer of the mole" and sniffed. Yeah well anyway (he says) these two bother me. WHAT? Those two were not even on the list. Cute little things. I thought they were more like beauty marks. What about the ones I was concerned about. Oh, those are nothing (he says). So he cuts off the ones I didn't even care about and one of them comes back as a dysplastic nevis. Hmmm. What the fuck is a dysplastic nevis. A dysplastic nevis means you have to come back and we will cut deeper and more - stiches even (the nurse says). OK. See ya on March 19. Fuck. So what if I die from dysplastic nevis? What have I done with my life. I have tried to be kind and help people. That's it? No cure for cancer? Not one earth shattering difference have I made. My son is the best thing I have ever done. I dunno. I'm just all screwed up right now. At my age, I should have a lot more money. But I have just shitted it away and had fun along the way. And now all the squirrels that put their nuts away have money. I have only memories of the good times.... Given the chance to do it all over again, I would not do it any different. Because when I die of dysplastic nevis disease I will have some great, fun memories. And the squirrels can play golf at their gated communities and be boring like they always were....squirreling away their money.... Of course, there is the off chance that I will survive this debilitating disease and be broke and alone and panhandling for my next meal. An old, scrawny, dysplastic nevis survivor on the corner asking for spare change.... Ah well. At least I'll have the memories. 10:26 a.m. - 2003-02-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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