My new portrait

Normally I care about what photos of me look like. OK, I admit it--I'm vain. I know I don't look 20 or even 50 but I want to be at my best which means my hair is in place, my face looks thin, etc.

Yesterday, I had my check-up after surgery with my Swiss German surgeon. He could qualify as a McDreamy in any TV doctor show. Add to that a sense of humour and helpfulness.

We did the appointment in English. He has the type of accent that one would wonder what Anglophone country he comes from and if guesses were unlimited, Bern, Switzerland would never, ever show up. Although almost all my cancer treatment two years ago and almost 99% of my medical appointments are in French, being in my mother tongue for this was comforting.

The good news is I'm healing just fine...any tiredness, blood and numbness (no comments please) are normal and if anything the numbness that once covered most of the right side of my face is receding  faster than he would have expected.

I told him I would have loved to watch the surgery on anyone other than myself. He was more than happy to give me details. Thanks to Zimmy, Dr. Helen Zimmerman, my high school anatomy teacher, I didn't need to ask for definitions or deeper explanations.

Between the demonstration skull and my X-Ray above I could count each little screw and see where it anchored the plate to knit my chips and fragments together.  He printed out the X-ray on a Power Point presentation, which Rick has scanned and circled in pink to show up better on this blog.

While making an appointment in September for a final check up the other surgeons I'd chatted with before the surgery, were all standing around the secretary's desk. She is a new bride and bubbly. The chef of surgery said it was too bad that there was no blue to match my dress for Rick's and my ceremony coming up. Dr. Stonefire said there was a little yellow, maybe I could buy a different dress. They all remembered the date.

Surgeons are supposed to have the reputation of being cold and uncaring and all the want to do is cut, cut, cut.

These three forgot to read The Grouchy, Uncaring Surgeon Manual.