Neurosurgeon/logist/tic

This blog is my outlet. It's personal, and therefore completely uninteresting to 99.99999% of the population. I'm cool with that.

The last 21 months, and counting, have sucked ass. To put it mildly.

Diagnosed with skin cancer, then removal of said cancer, then repair of the scalping, then failure of the repair, then return of the cancer was only the beginning. After that it got decidedly unpleasant.

But in between the above phase and the subsequent phase I decided to do something about my permanently pessimistic, fatalistic, and unpopular attitude towards...well, everything. I decided to retain the services of a therapist.

The first couple visits were good and promising, but then the cancer returned as I mentioned above, and of course the discussion turned to the here-and-now of then rather than the long term issues I had really wanted to deal with.

So anyway. Cancer back, I was sent to an oncologist (I was sent after the first removal too but that doctor obviously failed in her assessment that I was cancer-free), a plastic surgeon, and a neurosurgeon.

I don't know how you would react but when I was told that I needed to see a neurosurgeon it kind of hit me like going blindfolded over the edge of the first hill of a rollercoaster that someone had said was just the teacups ride.

Mouth agape, check. Color drained from face, check. Visions of becoming a high functioning head of lettuce, check.

It's moments like these that I have had far too many of in my life. There I was trying to proactively change my outlook on the world and I get thrown yet another spitball from the Bugblatter Beast of Traal assigned specifically to me to prevent my happiness meter from getting too far off the needle.

What I need are less invisible rollercoasters and more teacups.

I'm working on it.

[listening to "40 miles from the sun" - Bush]