How I Avoided Permanent Disfigurement (or Never do burpees inside the house)
I walk into my dermatologist’s office to get a mole looked at. Now, my Dermo is the guy you assume movie stars go to. He’s good, not, “he handled my blemish” good, but 12 years ago he told someone I know very, very well, “I can’t roll back time, but I can stop you from aging right now for the next 10 years” good.
That was 13 years ago. The only reason this person has started to age was the Dr. suggested it was “time”. Mind you, he didn’t cut anything. I was never told what he did but it was some combination of non-invasive things and never…not once…did she look botox frozen, or filled, or Kardashian puffy.
300 years ago the villagers would have drownd him trying to determine if he was a good or bad witch. I think he went to med school in California but, he might as well have gone to Hogwartz because he controls nature. I’ve seen it. In fact, let’s stop calling him “Doc”, and let’s refer to him as “The Warlock”…no, The Shaman.
Back to me….
The Shaman sees this red dot on my face. It’s nothing, but he wants to look closer. I didn’t even know it was there. And it was tiny. Casually he says, “let’s hit it with a laser and take a look at it again in a month”. I’m a guy, hit me in the face with a laser? Hell Yes!
In a month he wants a biopsy. Biopsy? It’s a red dot, you hit with a laser 4 weeks ago. Pretty sure lasers make red dots. Whatever, fine. A week later I get a call.
“You have Basil-Cell Carcinoma”. “I’ve scheduled you with the best surgeon on the planet”.
-Surgeon? Why can’t you shoot it with more laser, or take a melon baller to me, why am I going to someone else?
“It’s called the Moh’s Procedure and I’m sending you to the best”.
When someone you’ve seen perform magic says he is sending you to another place, it’s not a terribly good feeling. I have a small red dot. He teaches laser’s at a medical school, he has a contraption the size of a VW that shoots lasers, what the hell does this other guy have? Well, the other guy is a plastic surgeon.
I’ll try to make this part brief as all of this is really just opening to the real story. That being said, I have some advice for you.
This is important…
When getting any procedure done, don’t drive yourself. Because if the Dr. says, “ok plastic surgery time” and it’s on your face yet you are not offered anything but a local, it really….really…really sucks.
Anyways, cancer gone, been years alls good. Well, until a couple of years ago.
Do you know what a “burpee” is? Ever heard of a Spartan Race? At a client’s house and she demonstrates a BURPEE. Which is a ‘cherry picker’ or that’s what I was told in high school. Except when she does them, she does a version I would have been screamed at by my coaches for half-assing. So I show her how we did it in my day. Or, “hold my beer and watch this”.
Now, I’m 6"1' and her place is an A-Frame design. So the shock and surprise I felt (along with a shit load of pain) when I jumped as hard as I could headfirst into that 4'x4' cross member that was hanging roughly 6"5' was something else. At first, what was totally overshadowed by the blood and concussion was the disfiguring it did to my face.
My client (thank god for her) acted very quickly and with medical acumen, I was unaware she had. After stabilizing me she wanted to take me to the hospital. As she put it, “it looks pretty bad”.
Now, conventional wisdom is, go to the ER. And had the cut been on just about any other part of my body, I probably would have, but Friday night at 9:00 pm? If you have been to an ER on a Friday or Saturday night, you know they are busy and going to do the minimal patchwork to get you out. I hadn’t seen it (I didn’t even look at a picture of my cut for 6 weeks) but I knew I was pretty bad. I didn’t need to have ER staff scar me worse than I already was and it had stopped bleeding as my client put a maxi-pad (with little hearts) over the cut almost immediately.
The other reason was my obvious concussion. I played a lot of contact sports growing up and (unfortunately) I know my way around pretty severe concussions. They would have kept me in that god-awful place for another 4 hours and I wasn’t feeling that.
Well, my client put her foot down, only relenting when I promised I would see the Shaman at the crack of dawn Monday morning. Then she did something I will thank her for until the day I die.
“OK, well if we aren’t going to the hospital I have to do this”. “It’s going to hurt, don’t move”.
At the time I had no idea what she had done, but it hurt. Also, why exactly she had surgery grade medical dressing at her house I still have no idea. But man, am I happy for that also. She had those sterile, clear, adhesive things you have on you when you come out of surgery, for some crazy reason. She field dressed me and made me call every hour until I was awake for 4 additional hours.
The next day I went back and she redressed it and took a picture. As I said, I didn’t look at it at the time, but roughly 1/3 of my forehead was peeled off. The “this is going to hurt” moment was her pushing a giant, folded piece of my forehead back over the cut.
Dutifully Monday I called Dr. Rosenbach’s office and asked them to see me… Now, he has a very successful business and you can’t get a same-day appt. Period. However, the words, “I peeled my forehead off” is apparently the secret code.
When a doctor sees something unusual on a patient they try to downplay the situation to keep things calm. The Dr. did a solid job of hiding his horror as did his young tech. But, I could see wheels turning as they first saw it.
First question, “How high was the beam you hit?”
— 6"4', 6"5'
“At your age to still have hop’s like that, impressive.”
Did I mention he’s also funny?
I’m thinking, “OK, now that I’m the elephant man I’ll need to wear a hood everywhere I go, avoid children as they will laugh and stare, and I will never have sex again”.
He took charge and told me to come in every 3 days for a “while”. Over the next 2 months, I’d go in and they would clean it, re-bandage it, and tend to it. (once we got a few months in some laser work also)That’s really all you could do. However, this effort and attention by him and his wonderful staff led to unbelievable results.
You see, he didn’t tell me on the first day what he expected to happen, but he expected skin graphs. Certainly, the fast action by my client set that in motion, but his experience and use of modern techniques prevented my looking like a patchwork quilt. Instead, I have a small scar, There really isn’t even a line where it healed.
He also may have chewed me out a few times for not going to the hospital that night. I guess I had a little skull fracture and it could have a bleed on my brain and killed me…or something…
All that being said, I can never thank him enough. Thank you for my tiny, unnoticeable scar where a giant skin graph should be.
I’m indebted to you for life.
*Addendum*
I debated whether to post the pic taken the day after the accident and decided to post a picture from the morning after with the blood-soaked bandage to contrast a recent picture from a similar angle. Most people just don’t want to see the other picture. However, for any dark souled individuals who love carnage, dm (or whatever Medium calls it) me, and I’ll happily send it.
Also, the cross member I hit was a 4x4 that I hit hard enough to indent the corner, and blood had to be cleaned off the impact spot. Also, I gloss over the ‘not going to the Dr’, but (the accident was on a Friday night) by Sunday am my face was very swollen and I had coagulated blood running down my nose (on the inside) that was visible for months. The skull fracture was a big deal and I maybe should have gotten that checked. As you should if something similar happens to you.
Thanks again to Dr. Alan Rosenbach a friend and someone whose skill is only matched by his compassion.