Man On Fire: Before Pic

   Today was the day I began my three week Efudex treatment and I wanted to get a pic of what my face looked like before the treatment begins.
   Now, taking a close-up of my own face is something I rarely do and I now have several different versions on my phone. I'm including what I think is the best (believe me, there are no handsome versions...) to include on this particular blog post.
   At this point, I have no idea how fast things might change and I have no plans to post four or five days in a row if, for whatever reason, they all look almost identical. I also don't think anyone wants to look at my face every morning over coffee, not the best way to start the day
   As per instructions, I applied the cream twice today and, so far, I've felt no difference. One of the hardest tings is remembering not to touch your face in that spot. I've absent-mindedly done this a couple of times, just brushed my hand up against it, and it's really not something you want on your hands and fingers. After experimenting with Q-tips today, I've discovered that it's a touch more effective to use your finger, just have to remember to wash them thoroughly afterwards!
   I think I will continue to use the "Man On Fire" title whenever I have one of these updates, just for consistency's sake, so if you see that title pop up, you'll know it's another Efudex post. At that point, please feel free to either skip it or read it at your leisure and I will try and keep these posts as light as possible.
   Below is the "before pic",how my face looked just before I applied the cream.

Won't miss that red spot!

Man On Fire

   Tomorrow morning, I begin my three week adventure with Efudex cream. My dermatologist, Dr. Horgan-Bell has prescribed this treatment in order to clear up a case of keratosis on my left cheek.
   Keratosis is sun-related skin damage and is often a precursor to actual skin cancer. What Efudex does is destroy the already damaged skin cells so that they can be replaced with healthy ones. Unfortunately, along the way it also will destroy existing healthy cells as part of its "shock and awe" regimen. In its simplest terms, I will be giving myself what will feel like a really, really bad sunburn. As with most sunburns, the dead skin will eventually exfoliate, leaving healthy skin.

My new best friend...sort of.

   Several months ago, during my yearly physical, I spoke to my family doctor about a circular spot on my right calf which had not totally healed from a long course of cream application. He said that he would refer me to a dermatologist but that, due to a shortage of them here in London, it would likely be several months before I heard back. Well, it was several months but I finally got in.
   I had only been referred due to the spot on my leg but I asked her if it might be at all related to the spot on my face. Long story short...she decided to biopsy both and, then, not to take any chances with the spot on my face.
   So here I am.
   I have already run across a couple of blogs dedicated to peoples' adventures with Efudex and I am in the midst of trying to decide whether or not to spend a lot of time documenting my own. Frankly, the descriptions and pictures other people have posted are somewhat difficult to hear about and look at. I am sure that I will be documenting the journey for myself. The only thing I'm not sure of is how much of it to share. What I do know is that someone else sharing their trials and tribulations has helped give me a much better understanding of what might be in store. In return, I imagine it's possible that sharing mine might help someone else. So we'll see!

Old Books

A title, but no author's name

   I am drawn to old books. Whenever I come across one, I grasp it reverentially, pry it open gently and wait for the old book smell to come wafting up. Before I even begin to read, I head for the inside title page in an attempt to find out just how old the book is.
   I love finding books that are older than I am, it's the idea that minds were creating and presses were running before I was even a fleeting thought that beguiles me.
   Today, my work travels took me to the Cherryhill Village Mall in the afternoon where I met one of the people I support. There was an antique show being held there this week and after I was done travelling about with the person and then returning him to the Mall, I stopped by a display of used books.

THAT'S a little more informative!

   My roving gaze was suddenly stopped by a small, green, weathered volume. It was a copy of "A Shropshire Lad".
   Oddly enough, the author's name was nowhere to be found on the outside of the book and I had to open it to find out it had been written by A. E. Housman (1859-1936). The edition I was looking at was published in 1927. Inside the cover, someone named "E. Shaver" had signed it in ink, dated it "1928 Toronto". This totally satisfied my need for old!

Would love to know more...

   I very gingerly started leafing through its pages and discovered that a previous owner had left newspaper clippings in it from the thirties. One of the clippings was from a London, England paper and announced Housman's death, thereby dating it back to 1936. At this point, the book was sold, pending me actually handing my money over.

A sad day

   I returned my attention to the other books there and, just a bit lower than "A Shropshire Lad" was another amazing (to me) literary find---James Bond books! These, however, were not any old Bond books. They were of the same vintage of Bond books that I read voraciously as a teenager, same covers and everything! They were instantly sold as well!
   I got the books home and began leisurely leafing through them. In one of the Bond books, I found a  receipt from a store in Gravesend, England which was only open from 1954-1976. Once again, this helped satiate my need for old.
   One of the things which drew me to this copy of "A

Bond books of MY vintage

Shropshire Lad" was that its name was actually buried somewhere deep in my subconscious self, otherwise I might not have bothered in the first place (it wasn't the only old book there). Doing a little research on Housman once I got home led me to discover what a great and classic scholar the man actually was. You can read about him and "A Shropshire Lad" here.

Another little hidden gem!

   The man who was running this booth in the Mall was a white-haired gentleman who looked like he could have been in his eighties. Fortunately for him, in Cherryhill Village Mall this makes him a youngster. We talked for awhile and he told me a bit about his business. He told me that someone had been in earlier and complained about the price of the Bond books. He was selling them for two bucks apiece and they were clearly originally marked at sixty cents. His reply to the complaining customer was that they were collectors items. To me, there was an immediate, strong and visceral appeal to them. They instantly took me back to the heady days of adolescence when James Bond was actually a little on the racy side. In those days, the whole world was just a little Bond-crazy and I was no exception. In actuality, I probably would have paid a lot more than two bucks each. I guess this really was an example of something only being worth what someone was willing to pay!
   Curiosity about "A Shropshire Lad" took me to the internet where I scoured around, looking for references to it. I guess I was more than curious as to it history and value. It seems as though this is a book which been more or less constantly in print and if you had in your possession a first printing (1896) that was in good condition then you possibly had a book worth a couple of thousand dollars. As it was, I was able to find a bookstore selling a 1927 version which sounded the same as mine for about three hundred and twenty bucks!
   I most assuredly was not thinking of the book as financial investment, however, the idea of surrounding myself with little bits of history like this is what the attraction truly is. It appears as though my little copy of "A Shropshire Lad" was at one point used in a classroom, there is some underlining of passages and annotations going on. I have my father's desk downstairs, the same desk he and his brother and sister sat at when doing their homework in the thirties. I think "A Shropshire Lad" is headed there!