Will not heal

travel band-aid I don't know when I first noticed it, but I think my concern for the red spot on my arm came to light after one of those afternoon talk shows that old biddies like I watch. A woman on the program had a similar spot and a dermatologist told her to get herself a derma, because that right there was cancer.

So, I asked my PCP about the spot. She said it looked like a mosquito bite. I like my PCP, but sometimes I think she underdelivers on the furrowed doctor brow of concern.

Months passed and Little Man would occasionally scratch my arm and that spot would gush. And gush. And sometimes I'd forget and scratch my arm and...gushbuckets.

Then I consulted Dr. Internet and was convinced that I could herbally remedy this spot with a magical potion of things found right in my kitchen cabinet!!

(And let me tell you how highly I recommend wearing a poultice of apple cider vinegar and bandages around when you are trying to make new faculty friends. It's the glue that binds!)

After several weeks of herbal remedy fail, a man at church asked me what was going on with my arm, since he worked in dermatology. I got all sorts of flummoxed and eventually he just took a look at that arm and said it really looked like cancer. He gave me his card, indicating that if I wanted an appointment with him, it would take 3 months, so he said, just come in and he'd take care of me.

You best believe I was filling out paperwork in that derma's waiting room bright and early Monday morning.

After a biopsy and an overall derma-check, the derma said he was concerned that I had bled so much when he removed the skin. He said it was possible that it was a tumor that had already formed its own blood supply.

I waited a week for my results.

The derma called and said, "Kendra. You're going to be fine."

The spot, it appears, was a surplus of red blood vessels, possibly from when I had multiple blood transfusions last year.

"But," he said, "It's good we removed it because you weren't going to heal it by yourself."

I am so relieved that I am going to be fine, that I am not carrying around some malignancy in my writing arm. Yet, I am moved by the dermatologist's words.

I was carrying around some unsightly patch on my skin. It wasn't going to go away without some help by a trained professional. It caused me to think how much of our lives are spent doing the same. Carrying around some excess baggage or some wound that won't heal, trying to will it to go away with little band-aid fixes. We all have them. We try to lose them or cover them; we try and deny that the wounds run deep. Lacking the tools to be rid of them, we soldier on hoping that if we ignore them, they will go away.

The derma recognized my skin problem, but he also ministered beyond the skin-deep, taking the time to explain my problem and allay my fears. I pray that we all would be a part of this same scene played out, working toward healing and wholeness in ourselves and our neighbors, from the inside out.

*** Speaking of medicine, I'm ecstatic to report that 27% of my goal in supporting ASH has been realized thanks to you. Just a few more weeks until this campaign ends. I hope you'll consider supporting their mission of sustainable healthcare for women and children in Nairobi, Kenya.

Regalia

Dear Diary, This past week, the dream I held for myself when I was a little girl? Did not come true.

And thank God for that.

Especially since I think being the first U.S. Olympic Team woman figure skater to be featured on a Trapper Keeper wearing hot pink and orchid-colored leg warmers now seems a little ill-advised. I mean, the Trapper Keeper industry seems like it has sort of taken a slump in the Western market (but who knows for Asia, you know?). And I think the cold, cloistered life on an ice rink would have bummed me out after awhile, anyway.

So, I'm glad this past week to have just embraced this new dream. I taught three classes that I'd never taught before, to students that listened and engaged and asked questions and said things like, "Those are my faves." I was glad when they laughed when I dove across a table pretending to be a Serious Journalist on a Deadline, but I was less than glad when they tried to add me as a Facebook friend because, urrm? Where else am I allowed to talk about students?

I was also proud of my Loverpants who also taught a college class and he not only wore a bowtie and cufflinks and red Converse chucks but also launched his course with a cultural anthropology exercise that very much rocked.

Toward the end of the week, I walked in a parade of people wearing robes and funny hats with tassels, and a little part of me wondered if this was sort of the same thrill as landing a triple salchow.

::OOOOWWWWOOOOWWWWW goes the crowd::

I am a very fortunate liver of this proffy dream.

To academic integrity, and beyond!

Yours, K

***

Loverpants ironing my regalia. I like most domesticity but the ironing is not one of my faves. IMG_5874

***

P.S. I am $285 away from reaching my goal for ASH. Could you throw a fin toward sustaining medicine for women and children outside of Nairobi, Kenya?

The month named after Caeser Augustus, 2011

Really John? You had to put the Iron Gym on the doorjam of the bathroom? You don't like it there?

No! I can't shut the bathroom door.

When did we become a bathroom door-shutting family?

[You can take the boy out of Canada....]

***

Good people of Craigslist? Thank you.

IMG_5796

***

This past weekend we:

- Ate at a Pizza Hut Lunch Buffet in Kentucky. Fact the First: It was my first time at le buffet. I know! Fact the Second: The entire tab for our family of 4 came to $13.50. I'm not sure I could have made my own pizza buffet for double that. Something about that seems criminal. Fact the final: Pizza Hut is still a proud sponsor of the Book It! program. So get reading, young.

- Drove 10 hours in order to shack up at my sister's adorable house. She lives in Pottery Barn minus the annoying customer base barking at the cashier to wrap the wrought iron sconces individually while they simultaneously gab on their cellphones.

IMG_5799

IMG_5803

- Snuck into my old man's pool while he was at church. When he came home to us lounging in his backyard (with SpongeBob balloons to boot), he was so surprised. He turns 60 in a couple of weeks, but we helped him kick off the next decade of life with a rousing surprah. I'm so grateful for my old man. Actually, grateful doesn't come close to expressing my heart-thanks for him being such a wonderful pop and pampa to my kizzle. I love you, Pop, and I hope you have many more birthdays filled with cake and kids and pool inflatables.

IMAG0137