I went to see my doc today, to get a skin tag taken off. Turns out she wants to have me go to a dermatologist to just be thorough, and get it taken off whole so it can be tested. There is a history in my family of skin issues, and I want to be careful with my health. I also have what is most likely a swollen lymph node on the same side. It’ll get checked out, and the very big odds are is that all is fine. But I still have that niggle of worry. It will be good to get it all done.
Since having kids I have shifted about how I feel about death. The idea of dying used to terrify me. It still certainly brings up significant fear, but more prominent is sadness. I feel a tearing grief thinking of my kids losing me, growing up without me, having that enormous hole in their lives, that feeling of abandonment. I want to use this feeling to sharpen my appreciation of every day I have on the planet, to remind me to treat them with affection, and to give them the sense that there’s a big, powerful generator sending out my love to them always, 24/7.
My doc was able to do something else for me, which was to take off a mole that was positioned just so, right by my armpit, where the babies could, and did, tug on it. I’m willing to be a toy for my kids, but there are limits. I really, really didn’t like them tugging on that mole. So, I am happy it’s gone, though it’s funny too, to have the absence of an (admittedly tiny) part of your body you’ve seen every day for years.
This afternoon my knee started bothering me. So, I did my PT exercises in the playroom with the kids. It felt good to act on what I needed right away. And of course, I got the running commentary from Hazel, who proclaimed herself better at all of them than I am. It starts early, apparently.