Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Minor Catastrophes

As I recovered from the loss of my internet connection and the need to replace the tire shredded by a pothole, I had a new catastrophe of sorts.

My regular doctor had diagnosed a small skin cancer on my forehead and wanted me to go to a plastic surgeon in order to have it removed. This struck me as overkill, since a little scar would not be likely to harm my appearance. But there is no point in arguing with a doctor. So when my doctor gave me the name of a plastic surgeon--a certain Dr. Green--and his address and phone number and I dutifully made an appointment with him.

As it turned out, it was almost impossible--at least for me--to find the entrance to Dr. Green's office building, and I must have spent a least thirty minutes driving up and down the road on which that office fronts. I thus turned up for the appointment only three minutes before the scheduled time rather than a half hour early as I had planned. And I was, as one would expect, feeling very frazzled, although that did not seem to increase mv blood pressure.

Dr. Green turned out to be a very pleasant.

But he also turned out to be the wrong Dr. Green; he was an oncologist, not a plastic surgeon.

And that made me feel even more frazzled, although it was not, of course, as serious as having the wrong leg amputated or something like that.

I prety much spent the next day in bed and am by now almost completely recovered.

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