Put the basic skin tone into Consternation Morrissey while painting with N.
The Drivel Thread
They tried to take the stitches out this afternoon, but it looks to me like they may have missed some. They are jet black, and the little hole is jet black to my eye. I might go back to the walk in clinic tomorrow. Though it was painful when they tried today, because my skin had grown over the thread, and they had to rip through it, it will probably be more painful in the long run if that is thread in that hole, and it gets left there. I will have a better look in a few hours using my phone's flashlight to see if the hole is really thread or just shadow over red flesh. I guess I'll go have a look now. Darnit. And the sore has grown a lot since last week. The biopsy results might be in in a week. I'm not expecting good news, and if it is good news I will doubt its veracity. I will suspect they missed something.
I just looked in the mirror using my flashlight and am pretty sure it’s just shadow on red flesh, not black thread that could cause infection if left in too long, so I don’t think I’m going to go back to the clinic tomorrow. I saw my psychiatrist today and he’s relieved that I’m doing well mentally and physically, though the biopsy results aren’t in yet, and the rattling cough is probably still lurking though my lungs haven’t been bad lately. I have a pretty good singing voice today. I sang for a dude on the bus and it felt good. I had a conversation with a man on the sidewalk about our respective music tastes, and we’re both curious about each others' recommendations. He likes the punk groups No Effects, and I think the other group is called PropaGhandi, and he said they're very anti bullying.
Looking at the photo above on my screen of the sore, I see it hasn’t grown as much as I had imagined, and if the biopsy results are good, I will try to believe them and enjoy the health and vitality I still have so much of.
I just looked in the mirror with a flashlight again and the hole appears too black to just be red flesh in shadow. I might go back to the clinic tomorrow. I don’t know. They may have left one stitch in my flesh. Most of the opinions about such things I found in a quick search online say it’ll cause infection so it’s best to get it out as soon as possible. One opinion out of about 15 said the body will get it out on its own. I guess I’ll sleep on it. Dang.
Trying not to worry, when it’s just spinning my wheels in vain to fret. I will probably go to the clinic tomorrow morning to get some feedback, though there will still be millions of unanswered questions about so many issues. What’s one more. Is there a stitch in my wound or not? Who can tell, when it’s so small and so deeply embedded now, and who knows blah blah blah, I’m sick of worrying, so I think I’m going to lie down.
I’m going to lie down and then write a gratitude list in ink. If I continue to dwell on what’s going wrong I’m not going to manage to bathe and go for a walk today. It’s time for me to shift my focus to what’s going right, such as Morrissey’s concerts seeming to be happening, and my appointment next week with my counsellor to look forward to. I have a lot to be angry about. Endlessly angry, but it’s not sustainable to let anger build up in me souring everything I do. I really need to lighten up, despite so much that’s gone wrong. If I anticipate seeing footage of tomorrow night’s Morrissey concert, and seeing my counsellor next week, I stand a good chance of enjoying my evening. I spent the day worrying, and I’m sick to death of it. I need to lie down and let the stress subside. That will my first step, to climb out of this pit of despair.
Napped and woke with Alan Parsons Project’s song Games People Play in my head. I want to focus on what luck I’ve had, rather than what bad luck I’ve had, just so that I can be glad rather than afraid, angry, and sad.
It’s hard to focus on being grateful and appreciative when my headache returns. Always the left side of my head at the front, and I don’t know what triggers it. I guess I won’t make it out for a walk this evening. Back to bed.
I did lie down, and the headache seems to be nearly gone. Maybe I will enjoy an evening walk after all, though I haven’t bathed or thoroughly brushed my teeth yet today and it’s 7:30PM already. I hope I won’t have any headache or drama going on when tomorrow night’s Morrissey concert happens and I’ll be glued to my laptop scouring for footage and photos, setlist and quotes.
Had my evening walk. Gave one Morrissey sticky note away, to a young Middle Eastern construction worker who gave me a smile which made me offer him one. I don’t know if he even understands what the word ‘singer’ means, but it was at least a mutually pleasant, quick interaction. Got no other smiles nor gave any, though did exchange some eye contact with several people. My headache’s nowhere in sight. I didn’t stop at a park bench because I recently came away from it with several insect bites under my sweatpants that were annoying. People are so tricky. I don’t know if my doctor answered yes when I asked if she got all the stitches out because to admit that one was too embedded to get out would have been a liability greater than taking a chance that leaving it in will eventually cause infection. I just don’t know. People tend to cover their asses in sneaky ways and thoroughly honest people, even within reason, seem to be almost just a fairy tale. The way my doctor and her resident doctor left the room after they each in turn struggled to rip out the stitches, without making eye contact, makes me think that they may have been hiding something, like a lost stitch that is just too deeply sewn into my flesh to be taken out without taking out a chunk of flesh larger than the biopsy itself, which would be ridiculous. As they made their exit, I said thank you and they didn’t answer, so I think maybe they were not feeling proud of the stitches debacle. Sewing them too deeply and too tightly so that they had to cause more damage to get at least most of them out, but I’m not so sure they got the last one out, that looked like a thin black line when I got home, took off the bandaid and looked in the bathroom mirror, and now it’s impossible to differentiate between my darkened biopsy hole and any black thread, so if I go into the clinic tomorrow and a different doctor takes a fresh look at it, he probably won’t know what to make of it and I will just have to live with it in hope that the black line I saw was a figment of my imagination. Thing is I know it wasn’t imagined, so it’s a matter of just hoping it won’t cause infection, because I am pretty sure that no doctor is going to be able to identify the thread at this point where my flesh is grown around it almost as black as the thread, in that small hole.
Yesterday I had a conversation about music and an anti-bullying punk attitude, with a man with very intelligent and sensitive eyes, whose body was covered in sores that look like they’re probably from him being an addict. He seemed to be coping well. Maybe I will too, with just one sore. He had them all over his scantily clad, thin body. My sore hasn’t been hurting much today. Hardly at all. Oh, just as I wrote that it ached a bit. I’m feeling pretty good now, while a little dog barks in a nearby apartment. That package of coffee beans is still unopened. I haven’t had caffeine now for several weeks. I wonder what causes those headaches. I didn’t see the homeless man with the dolly loaded with his belongings a block away this evening. We chatted both last evening and the evening before. He mumbles and talks to himself a lot. I don’t know where he’s gone to. The first evening I spoke with him he accepted five dollars from me, but the second evening he told me to keep it for myself. He said that the Chinese are going to weed out sadists from their population.
Yesterday I had a conversation about music and an anti-bullying punk attitude, with a man with very intelligent and sensitive eyes, whose body was covered in sores that look like they’re probably from him being an addict. He seemed to be coping well. Maybe I will too, with just one sore. He had them all over his scantily clad, thin body. My sore hasn’t been hurting much today. Hardly at all. Oh, just as I wrote that it ached a bit. I’m feeling pretty good now, while a little dog barks in a nearby apartment. That package of coffee beans is still unopened. I haven’t had caffeine now for several weeks. I wonder what causes those headaches. I didn’t see the homeless man with the dolly loaded with his belongings a block away this evening. We chatted both last evening and the evening before. He mumbles and talks to himself a lot. I don’t know where he’s gone to. The first evening I spoke with him he accepted five dollars from me, but the second evening he told me to keep it for myself. He said that the Chinese are going to weed out sadists from their population.
Dreamt that many homeless people forced their way into my apartment and wouldn’t leave. Woke wanting to scream, not just about the dream but my life in general since the day I was conceived. Eyes slightly stinging and itchy, like they often have been after sleeping, since the technician jabbed me months ago. The small biopsy hole in my chest is black and I don’t know what that means. I’ll do a little online research about it and possibly go to the clinic. Have a Four Tops song in my head but I don’t know what the words are or what it’s called. Seagulls just began crying out, signalling sunrise.
Listening to my favorite Morrissey concert for the millionth time, through my personal hygiene process. Have just blow dried my hair and tied it up. Life is war.
Well that was scary. I just ate a small orange and then felt with my tongue, a lump on the inside of my mouth. I couldn't dislodge it, so I checked it out in the mirror, and it wasn't reassuring. I tried to pry it out, but couldn't...wow, but just now, bit it, and it's gone. Weird. I just looked at it in the mirror again and there's only a tiny hole in the pink inside of my mouth, where there had been a black lump that scared the shit out of me. It’s gone, but I would have noticed if I had swallowed it. Just wow. If you had seen what was there ten minutes ago you’d be astounded too, that such a large black lump instantly metamorphosed back to being seemingly healthy pink mucous membrane, with just a small hole where I bit it. Incredible. I had thought that it must be cancer of the mouth, and was extremely concerned, and then it was gone in an instant! I was going to take a photo of it, dreading what I took it to signify, but then noticed with my tongue that the lump had vanished immediately upon having bitten it…I’m stunned, and greatly relieved. Wow. Just wow. I’m astonished. That was some scary shit! It’s not my time yet. However, I await the biopsy results still, etcetera. For now, I feel pretty healthy and robust. Not perfectly, but it’s pretty good. No debilitating headache this morning. The chest sore isn’t nibbling at me. My right lung isn’t bothering me. My eyes don’t sting. I’m not feeling any intensely painful emotions. I wonder what that black lump that seemed to be a new part of my mouth was. Stunned.
Last night was very pleasing, hanging out on the concert thread, and I look forward to attending tonight’s concert thread. Sophie Williams and Mitch Wight uploaded great footage soon after the show ended, though I haven’t seen Please Please Please yet. Hoping it'll show up on YouTube. If not, then I’ll use my imagination.
Action Is My Middle Name is playing in my head.
JerryCan
Well-Known Member
I think Sophie is on the crew and usually gets some good recordings, though sometimes the sound mix varies a bit as she's so close to the stage and under the front stacks (or something technical like that). Mitch's are usually great too. After a while you get to recognise the regulars who will get a good recording, and those who inexplicably switch off before the song's over (grrr).
Just woke up, and it’s 11AM. Action Is My Middle Name is playing in my head. I remember Morrissey saying in footage taken from last night’s concert something like “We will all go to the bar to destroy our livers after this.”. I hope to spend some quality time with him in this lifetime without alcohol being involved. We have naturally generated endorphins and oxytocin to stimulate within ourselves, to get high on. We don’t need to ruin our livers.
I hope I'm wrong, but it looks like the little hole is blocked from healing because of a remaining black stitch that my doctor denied she left in. Who can be trusted to tell the truth when there is liability involved? Very few I'm sure.
The Queen of Batons
Well-Known Member
I'd like to see that too. I keep looking. Was there really no vocal, I wonder?
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