I told two people about my appointment with the finger surgeon this afternoon: my client and my husband. Their reactions:
Client
E-mail to Client: I'll get you another sketch or 2 by this evening, your time. Running out to the FINGER SURGEON of all things. (Nothing serious).
p.s. Thought I should elaborate on finger. It's left hand; index finger has a golf ball growing out of it. So even if it is a cancerous growth & finger has to be amputated, job won't be affected one bit, as I'm right-handed.)
E-mail from Client: "...even if it is a cancerous growth...." You're taking this very well. I hope you're joking. I've had some cancer scares myself and the uncertainty is more stressful than anything else. I hope everything's okay. Bodies do very odd things every now and then to get attention. Hopefully it's just looking for love. Please let me know how things turn out.
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Husband
Me: Do you think we'll be able to go for a walk this evening?
Husband: It depends on when you get back from the finger surgeon.
Me: Oh I'll be back in no time.
Husband: If it's nothing serious, you will.
Me: If he had to amputate my finger, would you still like me?
Husband: If you could still walk I would.
My finger does not have to be amputated. I found out that I have degenerative arthritis. It's not my fault. It's the fault of my grandmother on my mother's side. The one who always made me comb my hair and stand up straight. The finger surgeon can take the golf ball off. There's only one chance in a hundred that it will grow back, because scar tissue usually keeps something like that from returning. The only catch is, I'll have to spend $5,000. (That's my deductible.) The doctor assured me that as well as removing the golf ball, he can also replace my thumb joints as well as all my finger joints with artificial joints, so not to worry. He says there is nothing you can do about degenerative arthritis. I'll google it tomorrow. But I feel fine! It was just that I didn't want to scare people with my finger. As far as pain goes, any pain I've experienced–as far back as 20 years ago–has disappeared. I'm not about to spend $5,000. (A new Vespa?) I'll find a glove to wear instead.
