Saturday, June 25, 2016

Well, Steve. Rest in Peace. The Departure Had To Happen Eventually. I Hope You Find Solace In Rest.

Several years ago when I went to the dermatologist I introduced Dr. Moss to Steve. It's not that I do a lot of self examinations, but I couldn't help but notice that there was something growing on my left butt cheek. I got out a mirror and said, "Ewww. What is that?" Google searching convinced me it was a skin tag, so I named him "Steve," and went on my life. Steve's been a good friend and I didn't think much about him. He just was what he was, although I did joke about him from time to time.

Then, a few summers ago, my friends and I  started talking about skin growths at a picnic (these are the kind of people I like to hang out with) and I introduced Steve. They wanted to see him, of course, which began a whole comic series involving the romance of Shirley and Steve - she was fascinated by this particular skin tag. I think her cellphone blew up with photographs.

Time went by and suddenly Stan, a younger brother to Steve, arrived on my left hip. He was not as aggressive, nor as feisty, but he too grew a little  large for his own comfort. I knew one day they'd both be too much.

I needed to get more Clobex for my psoriasis and Dr. Moss, the dermatologist, instantly looked at my chart and asked, "How's Steve?" I guess he wrote the tag's name in my file three years ago - the last time I visited. I said, "You want to see him?" He said sure, and Steve told him about Stan, and then Stan told him about Nigel (a third nipple growing near my shoulder that appeared out of nowhere). Dr. Moss was willing to work on Steve and Stan, but he thought Nigel could wait a few years. The mark on my shoulder, too, is not of danger either, but he hasn't received a name yet.

In ten seconds, the pinch of a needle, and a slight scrape, Steve was gone. Just like that. Stan went just as quick. They were placed in jars to be sent to labs for further research and I left chagrinned that I couldn't take them home as potential Christmas gifts. I thought they might make wonderful ornaments. No chance. They belong to the medical field now. They are history (just like the Sakana Hana on my nose - that is fish nose in Japanese and the name I had for a mole that use to rest on my nose. A girl once tried to pick the mole off while we were eating fish in a restaurant - um, you have fish on your nose, Bryan. Um, no. That was a mole.

I told Shirley, but she's been dating another fellow lately. She had a special crush on Steve, but didn't take the loss as hard as I thought she would, probably because she now has a more life-size lover.

I haven't taken off the bandaid  nor felt around, but I know Steve will be missed. Stan was rather neglected and I never paid much attention to him.  Steve, however, has been the center of many conversations and I ask the world today to raise their glasses in salute to him.


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