So earlier this week I had my final ‘spot’ sliced off at the dermatologist.
I’m so tired of going there that I am not capable of adding an exclamation mark to the previous ‘exclamation’. It’s just a loud statement. Said in a bored sort of voice, because I am so over being sliced that it’s not even funny.
The nurse removed the stitches from the ‘spot’ on my chest, which has healed up quite good. The spot on my thigh looks like someone bingo-stamped with magenta ink. Oh and put a big icky scab in the middle. Real attractive. The last area is on the side of my upper right arm. Another three stitches, frankly this one looks a little rougher. And hairier. Stitch thread sticking up and a bald spot in the shape of a band-aid in the surrounding area are competing to add extra glamour to my day-to-day look.
One more week and I head back to have the stitches removed. Since it’s such a quick procedure, I’ve elected to take V with me. Hysterical, right? I think so.
All of these spots plus the fun that I am experiencing during early pregnancy have combined to make me feel just kind of gross. Despite being in my second trimester (albeit just barely), this ‘surge’ of energy so far is manifesting itself as more of a ‘drain’. Liars!
Craving are up and running full speed though. Nausea and what I honestly describe as a ‘general malaise’ are in the running with my energy ‘surge’ for number one. And gosh do I ever like saying ‘general malaise’.
Oh and I feel like I’m 5 months pregnant. Thanks muscles for relaxing and stretching out at the slightest whisper of pregnancy.
So to sum it up: I am covered in new scars, carrying a huge spare tire, exhausted, cranky, smell like apples (must stop eating them) and am craving cheese.