Somewhere between October 2010 and December 2010 (can you tell I'm updating the blog months after this posting) my Dad said something along the lines of, would you like to get the mole removed from your forehead; I'll pay for it? We had a nice heart to heart where he admitted he had thought maybe in college I would have liked to have it removed but he didn't want to imply that he thought I was unattractive with it and so he didn't say anything. By the time he asked me, though, I had had enough conversations with small children about the "owie" on my forehead and how it wasn't one, just a mole. I had, had this conversation with Greg a few weeks before my Dad and I talked and even after an explanation of what it was Greg still gave me this weary "hummm, we'll see" expression. I was all for having the mole removed and so I scheduled an appointment Dec 21st. It was a simple procedure, I had to wear a very obvious bandage on my forehead for the first day and a bandaid for a week, and after about 7 months a lot of the pink of the scar tissue has gone away. I don't have a fine line like the doctor said he though I might have, but a pink pockmark like scar , but it is still better then the mole that protruded off my head about an eighth of an inch.
I think my Dad was using me a little as a Guinea Pig because he himself has a mole on his back that he would like to have removed. When he discussed it with his doctor his doctor replied that it was just a little of his Irish heritage shinning through. Both of us are pretty confident that this isn't a genetic trait we feel we need to flaunt. Maybe now after me having had my mole removed he will go in and have his removed. If he needs a little hand holding, I'll be there for him.
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