Edged by a Nose

Highlight Purveyor

I have been more than generously “blessed” when it comes to the proboscis area. Not in terms of aesthetic beauty but in sheer area. My wife didn’t seem to mind so I‘ve accepted my fate in life. As I’ve aged it’s received more and more attention, mainly from the dermatologist as I’ve had it cut a couple times for the whole pesky cancer thing. A few years ago a small blood vessel burst near the tip of my nose. When I started to notice it in pictures I asked the dermatologist who confirmed it was a normal part of aging and nothing to worry about.

Fun with Filter Again

My wife however who lives firmly in the “no stone doesn’t want to be turned over” zone decided it needed to be fixed. She colluded with the Neighborhood Mafioso who knew about a nurse practitioner with a small skin care practice in a nearby town. She signed me up for an appointment which happened last night. It was very matter of fact. The nurse laid me down on a heated bed, threw a heavy towel over my chest, smeared some pain deadening cream on my nose and left me alone to listen to yoga music for twenty minutes. At least I think it was twenty minutes since I dozed off more than a couple times. She then came back, pronounced me ready and got to work. She was using a machine that produced tightly focused sound waves to “ablate” (whatever the hell that means) the broken blood vessels which would then be absorbed into the skin. She warned me it was still going to sting a little and she was true to her word.

Nose Before

After

I might have jumped a little if it wasn’t for the whole male pride thing. Once she took care of the aforementioned vessel she went to work on a bunch on either side of my nose which was a lot of fun. Imagine a semi-sharp needle probing for three seconds at a time repeatedly to get an idea. It was all over in less than ten minutes and she showed me a mirror to view that all of the offending vessels were history. She did warn me that the ablated blood would eventually surface on the nose in the form of a scab, so I’ve got that to look forward to but so far – nothing.  I can now proudly proclaim I’ve had cosmetic surgery. My wife is dangerous.

Practicing her Jumps

The highlight of my day, of course, didn’t involve this little episode but my video call with my granddaughter. She was her usual industrious self, moving around the greatly expanded play area the new house provides. She get a little frustrated because it’s obvious she wants to communicate more extensively then her current vocabulary allows which just makes her even more charming. Who thought that was even possible! Wingman is learning the joys of home ownership trying to track down a leak that produced a small lake in the basement. I warned him he would become good friends with his local Home Depot. I think he loves the idea of it.

After last night’s procedure and before my nose blossomed into a scab I went to the movies again and saw Get Out. This is such a good movie! It expertly weaves a horror story into racial issues and laces it with a fair amount of humor. I know that sounds preposterous but this movie is something new and I never saw that coming. It’s also a perfectly named movie as the audience spends almost the entire time yelling the title in their head to the lead character. The story involved a well off white girl bringing her black boyfriend home for a weekend in the country. The boyfriend’s friend who functions as a one man Greek chorus repeatedly warns him about the danger he’s wandering into, in hilarious fashion. The tension builds as more and more clues are laid for the poor guy. This is just such a great ride and the benighted TSA finally gets some love thrown its way. Go see this movie as long as you don’t mind open cranial surgery in the basement or the odd death by croquet ball; nearly a perfect movie. If you’re lucky enough, as I was, half the audience will be African-American which truly enhanced the experience.

Today’s Soxfather’s Sister’s morale photo injection: