I asked Kurt to give me a title for my diary today. He’s refusing to cooperate. Apparently he’s too busy watching “How It’s Made.” Like a TV show is more important than my journal! Sheesh!
So we went to the doctor’s appointment today. The doctor leaned over Gracie and I got a huge whiff of very unwashed hair. Not fun. You’d think a doctor would have better hygiene habits. Then again, he is male.
The doctor measured Grace’s birth mark and told us that it’s actually no bigger than it was six months ago. I don’t know about that; it’s always kept pace with her growth. Honestly I think her growth in general has slowed down, which is why her birth mark hasn’t grown much either.
He told us that she does indeed have a congenital nevi versus the café-au-lait mark she had at birth. But he did say that it’s more of an intermediate size, not a large one. The darn thing is 8cm by 3cm — that seems pretty darn big to me!
The problem with having it removed is it’s a very involved process. She would be operated on first to implant some skin-stretching devices (balloons filled with saline that I would have to fill over the course of some weeks — owwwwww), and then once they had enough skin at the location, the birth mark would be removed and the skin would be stretched over the gap and sutured in place. I’ve seen such operations on TV. She would still have a scar, but it would be a fairly minimal one.
I had a boyfriend in high school who’d had a birth mark on his left inner forearm that had been removed. This was before the use of skin-stretching procedures, so the plan was to graft skin from his leg onto his arm. However, the doctor in charge apparently felt that my boyfriend’s skin was feeling rather stretchy that day and instead simply sutured the gap shut. He was left with a jagged scar that was a half-inch wide in places. You could still see where each individual suture had been too.
I’d hate for that to happen with Grace.
But right now, we’re going for the non-invasive route. Kurt and I check her birth mark every night, especially the nights she gets a shower, and we make sure there are no weird changes or new spots. Kurt has the same birth mark that has yet to turn cancerous, so we’re fairly confident that as long as she keeps an eye on it, she’ll be fine.
Then again, if the new dermatologist in Rhode Island suggests we remove it, we’ll probably seriously consider that as well. I’d rather not, but if we’ve gotta, we’ve gotta.
Our open house this morning for the brokers in the area wasn’t as well-attended as our realtor had hoped. That sucks royally. Even still, eleven people came by and left their cards, so that’s a good thing.
The problem is simple — there is massive construction on the easiest way to get to my house. You can go all the way around your ass to get to your elbow to get home without going by the construction, but who wants to do that? Our realtor believes that massive construction caused the poor turn-out. I can’t really blame them either. One day it took us thirty minutes to travel the half-mile of construction. Who would want to sit in that kind of traffic just for an open house?
I just hope the folks that did attend today will tell their colleagues, “Hey, there’s a cute little house up in Blah-de-humpty-squat Estates! Go check it out! It’d be perfect for your client!”