Forty going on Four...

I turned forty this year. I am not the type of person to really care about turning thirty, forty, etc. Although I must admit, the thought of turning fifty is a bit daunting to me. But since that is still ten years away and I am a firm believer in the Scarlet O'hara mentality of "I'll think about that tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day", I can pretty easily push it from my mind. As well as anything else that I really don't want to deal with.

And let's face it, at the present time I have bigger dragons to slay.

One of those dragons is keeping close watch on my cancer issues. I am supposed to see a dermatologist every year for mole/melanoma checks as well as my oncologist/surgeon for my thyroid cancer. Let's just say that with everything else I have had to worry about these past couple of years, I have been a wee bit remiss in keeping those appointments.

Besides, every time I go, they just want to hack into me with a scalpel. It gets old fast and I scar so badly that I fear that it may soon be my reality that I no longer have any places of just clear skin on my body. Only moles connected by scars. And the worst part? I am not exaggerating.

Anyway, as I was saying, I have not made my last couple of year's worth of doctor visits for myself. And somehow, someone (hello Ma), managed to leak this information to my father. And let me sum up his reaction in two words:

He freaked.

I was laying in bed with an ice pack and hot water bag over my head fighting off yet another migraine (as any normal healthy person-haha) when the front door opens and I hear, "Joanna!"

Now for most people hearing your name yelled out by your dad is not an issue but when it is MY dad , who always calls me either "little girl" or "rabbit" or something foolish like that, hearing your real name called out is a problem. I instantly reverted to a little kid who has been caught being naughty.

"Aw, crap" I muttered as I, in my best nonchalant whatever-could-be-the-matter-voice yelled back "Yeah?"

Then he started in on when was the last time that I saw my oncologist and why had I not been in a while and on and on and on it went. Then I really pissed him off because I just started laughing at him. He does not take well to being laughed at when he is in 'serious' mode. So then I really caught hell because I wasn't taking my him or my health seriously.

"I want you to call and make an appointment today! I mean it! You can laugh all you want but I'm coming back at noon time and if you haven't called then I will!"

So me being me and not liking to be treated like a small child said (very much like a small child would however), "You can't make me and you can't call because you don't know the name of my doctor!"

"I guess I CAN make you little girl! Don't think that your ass is so small that I can't shove my foot up it! And I'll just call Jen to get the name of your doctor."

"She can't tell you. Doctor/patient confidentiality! She needs my permission to tell you that and I'll call her and tell her not to tell you!" At this point I really wanted to add "so nah, nah, nah!" But I wisely held that back.

"If you think that Jen Desmond won't give me that name when I am standing right in front of her then think again! This is just stupid. You have too much at stake here to be missing these appointments. I know you've got a lot going on with Tessie but that is no excuse! I will be back at noon and will stand in front of you until you call if you haven't by the time I get here! Call!"

SLAM. He left all in a huff about it.

I fumed about for a while mumbling something along the lines of how I wasn't four, I was forty and I could do whatever I wanted and blah blah blah.

I had the appointment made ten minutes later.

My hubby couldn't believe it because he had been bugging me about calling all along with me swiftly sidestepping him at every turn. "Pretty good. I try to get you to call for over a year and you ignore me and he shows up for ten minutes and you call."

What can I say. Ask anyone.

You just don't mess with Big Daddy....