Quick reminder. I don't like animals--unexpected ones, dead things, amphibians, snakes, slimey stuff, blood, and egg foo young. In spite of a brief infatuation with becoming a nurse thanks to chain reading Cherry Ames as a child, I am not cut out for most things medical.
I love Grey's Anatomy, but only listen to the actual medical scenes. And come to think of it, I don't always listen. I've been know to squeal, plug my ears with my fingers and sing "La La La" as loudly as possible until Blythe signals me that all the grossness is over.
This is to say that it is offical I am going to have my thyroid removed. No biggie. Overnight surgery. Quick recovery. All that.
Then I get a bee in my bonnet and uncontrollable HAVE to good "thyroid removal scar." (Must be the imperius curse. I wouldn't have done that by choice.) Now I find myself sticking my fingers in my ears screaming "La la la!" But it is a visual which I can't get out of my mind.
Not that the scars are that bad. Fairly small. But on your neck where all can see. Not like the scars from my hysterectomy hiddenly wisely under layers and layers of clothing and granny panties not to be seen by anyone except maybe the DH. (Who is probably mentally screaming "la la la" with HIS ears plugged.)
So I am worried that I will frighten small children while trying to photograph them. And when this happens, it won't exactly be turtleneck weather. For that matter, I don't wear turtles anymore. Bad look for me.
And this all points out the shallowness of the moment. More worried about the way I will look than improving my ablility to breathe and swallow due to humongous goiter in throat. More worried about aesthetics than health. But isn't that easier to deal with anyway? Oh well.
I'm off to think about anything but blood and guts. Hopefully I will be a patient of Cherry Ames, Thyroid Nurse.
