Up at 04:30 as usual. I went for a wee walk with my walker, and enjoyed the greetings of the kookaburras. Then coffee and pills and a spot of Sudoku. I slipped back into bed around 6. Still dozing at 07:30, when I was startled by the sound of someone being startled just outside my window.
“Bloody geckos! Scared the shit out of me.”
It must be Thursday. The meter reader is right on time. Startled again. He should know they are there by now. Surely I’m not the only one who has geckos in his meter box? They are always there. Why do they startle him every week? Or is that just his way of letting me know he is there?
I settled back down for a bit more knitting of the ravelled sleeve. I had nowhere to be until my quarterly skin check at 11:30. And a swim on the way home.
Up at nine. A quick shower and on my way by ten.
The time between December to March has passed so quickly. But not quickly enough, it seems. I soon spotted that this was not going to be a once over and off to lunch. I felt I’d been put on the spot.
Mehdi was taking his time, being thorough. That told me he had spotted something even before he started taking photos and explaining what he saw. We only got both arms done before the allotted time of forty minutes was up. By then we already had eight trouble spots to slice out or do a punch biopsy on. One in particular seems to be a priority. The rest of my body can wait, and be be checked after the slicing is done.
Mehdi meticulously photographed and logged each site. He has a neat new Nikon camera with a lens specifically designed to be placed right on the skin. It illuminates the area and takes a hi-res magnified close-up picture. Mehdi showed me the features of the spots that tell him whether the lesion may be a melanoma or a basal cell carcinoma. I have seven suspected examples of the former, one potentially deep, and one suspected BCC. That’s enough to be getting on with.
He asked me to sign a consent form to allow him to share and publish the photos he took. I’m guessing that’s an indication of his confidence in his diagnosis. He assured me the photos would be anonymous. I told him I did not care for that. I did not want to be “Elderly obese male, aged 68″ I prefer to be Alan Freshwater,
He’s a hard man to get a laugh out of.
It seems we can’t slice and dice them all at once. For medical reasons as well as the constraints of time. I have four appointments over the coming week, followed by another skin check to cover, or rather discover, the rest of me.
This turn of events does not surprise me at all. Nor does it worry me in the slightest. I’m in the best of hands. Just a wee spot of trouble. But if this keeps up I may have to move back to Woodford to save on diesel.