In case you were wondering, this photo has nothing to do with anything. I was just scrambling to find a picture, in my photo archives, for today's post! (This door-knocker picture was taken in Orange, where today's story takes place…) Note: the next edition will go out on Monday.…
couper la parole (koo pay lah pah rhohl)
: to interrupt a person who is speaking
Audio File: Listen to Jean-Marc read these words:
Download MP3 or Wav file
Excusez-moi, je vous ai coupé la parole.
Excuse me, I interrupted you.
A Day in a French Life… Kristin Espinasse
Guts, Madame!
I left the surgeon's office feeling more uncertain than ever. Perhaps this doubt had to do with a certain certainty: I had gone into the consultation with a plan of my own and, almost as soon as the doctor began talking, I cut him off. How stupid: je lui ai coupé la parole!
And we had been off to such a good start! I had nodded bonjour as I watched the white-smocked chirurgien walk across the office, dossier en main, and take his place behind a massive bureau. True, I was a little surprised by his youth–and it brought me back to the realization that middle age has indeed hit when doctors and surgeons begin looking younger than you! (and when, in fact, they are younger than you!)
"Bonjour, Madame. Que puis-je faire pour vous?" the doctor greeted me. I noticed his smooth skin–it had that "healthy glow".
In answer to the doctor's question, I pointed to the growth on my forehead and tried to remember the translation for the diagnosis given by my dermatologist: "J'ai un basil.. baso… basilo…. Uh, c'est un carcinome."
"How long have you had this?" he questioned, his eyes crossing as they narrowed onto the bump in the center of my forehead.
"About a year… I think."
"…And there's another on my nose…" I pointed to the second growth, the one my dermato said we'd keep our eyes on–for its location made it a little more complicated to remove.
"I see…" the doctor nodded his head.
"How will you remove these?" I asked, filling in the silence that followed. "That is, do you think the second one should be taken out?"
The doctor began to explain that he would remove the first one by excision.
"Oui, oui…" I chimed in, remembering my crash course on basal cell carcinoma (I'd surfed the net, in a frenzy). Positively brimming with knowledge I informed the doctor: "You'll take out a bit of skin… examine it… and take out some more–until all the bad cells are removed. C'est ça?"
"Non."
"Non?"
When I learned that the growth would be removed all in one go, I became suspicious. Wasn't there a better, less intrusive, way? "Have you heard of Mohs?" I questioned. "You know, la chirurgie de Mohs?"
The doctor confirmed that he was familiar with it, had even used it in the past, but that he no longer practiced the "little by little" method; instead, a large section of skin would be excised. To illustrate this, he took out a piece of paper and drew an imperfect circle (representing the growth). Next, he drew an imperfect rectangle around that… and filled in the area between the circle and rectangle with dots. The dots represented traces of bad cells, or how far the carcinoma might have traveled.
I thought about the size of the excision. "But what about scars?"
"There will be scars, Madame!" the doctor's response was abrupt, and I sensed that my tendency to worry-obsess was beginning to show. For a moment, I regretted the formal atmosphere… how much more at ease I might be, if we were, say, at a dinner party. I might be seated next to the surgeon, who would have had, ideally, "one too many" or "un de trop". Formalities aside, I might then pour out my obsessional heart: asking, with abandon, every absurd question currently plaguing me. What's more, the surgeon, instead of responding so abruptly, might loosen his tie and answer along these lines: "Don't worry about the scars, babe, I'll take care of them!" On second thought, this scenario was even less comforting than the first…
"But can you make little scars?" I repeated, returning to the present moment.
With this, the doctor became vague, answering my question with a fact: "I do not usually operate for skin cancer on people your age. My patients are much older." (I gathered that older people did not mind the scars?…) I remembered all of the elderly patients whom I sat next to in the salle d'attente (I had passed the time trying to guess their ailments, deciding that the fair-skinned woman across from me might have a carcinoma, that the full-bellied man beside me was there for a digestive difficulty, and the little ladies with the plastered hair to my right… well I hadn't gotten yet to their diagnosis… when the doctor called on me. But the truth was the truth: none of them had put on mascara that morning, which led me to suspect that a scar on the forehead wouldn't upset their aesthetic universe.)
Speaking of the universe of aesthetics, my next question centered on the growth on the side of my nose.
The doctor's eyes began to cross, once again, as they narrowed in on my nose. He nodded his conclusion: it was a delicate area and there would be risks. The doctor illustrated this by placing his finger at the tip of his nose… and pushing it up. I sat staring into his nasal passage.
"Stitches might pull at the skin, causing the tip of the nose to lift–like this!" he warned. "I would have to leave part of the wound open (to heal on its own), to prevent this."
I studied the doctor's momentarily disfigured nose. Mine might be more permanent! That is when the words "plastic surgeon" appeared in my mind's eye. This brought me to my next question, more of a confirmation:
"But you are a "chirurgien digestif", n'est-ce pas? What exactly is a digestif surgeon?"
With that, the young doctor patted his stomach, and spoke, for the first time, in English: "Guts, Madame!"
So "guts", or the digestive tract, was his specialty…
"Oui, je vois…" And I did understand, clearly–though I was more disillusioned than ever. Why would a guts surgeon work on my gueule, or face?
I regretted the direction in which my thoughts were headed. And I wished I hadn't talked so much (I'm afraid all that "education" I got on the internet was no help with the current consultation). And, though the doctor's words did not inspire confidence–due, in part, to my own fixed mindset!–I did take away some very good advice… even if I've taken it out of context… yes, in the murky months to come, in which I'll need to decide on a course of treatment, I would do well to listen to the doctor's words: Guts, Madame!
Courage, indeed.
***
Post Note: last night I went back to my internet searching and learned that the doctors proposed method ("standard surgical excision") is, in fact, the "preferred method" (before Moh's). I felt a little better, and will now think about going back for surgery. Meantime, it won't hurt to have another consultation with another doctor. En avant! Onward march!
Corrections, comments, and stories of your own are welcome here, in the comments box.
Related story: "Peau": about my visit to the French dermatologist.
Selected French Vocabulary
je lui ai coupé la parole = I cut him off (in speech)
bonjour = hello
le chirurgien, la chirurgienne = surgeon
le dossier en main = file in hand
que puisse-je faire pour vous? = how can I help you?
dermato (dermatologue) = dermatologist
la salle d'attente = the waiting room
The classic Bescherelle, the complete guide to French verb conjugation. Read the five-star reviews, and order, here.
A scene from the town of Faucon, not far from Vaison la Romaine. Photo taken two years ago… during a photo périple. Read about another photo journey here, in an inspiring stroll I took through the town of Rochegude. Click here to read the post "SAISIR".
Discover more from French Word-A-Day
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Dear Kristin
I want to add my name to the list of those people urging you to get the best care thru a dermatologist and plastic surgeon. And from now on, please wear sunscreen. In my youth I spent countless hours over many summers trying to get a tan – I never got a wonderful tan but I did/do get a lot of basal cell cancers and pre-basal cell cancers removed from my face, chest, legs, and back. It’s a gift that keeps on giving. My husband and I go twice a year to see the dermatologist who also zaps what he calls my maturity spots which we all know are age spots. 🙂
You have received good advice here, Kristen, and you should fare well! You will still be your lovely self!
Although it’s been said already, please see a plastic surgeon for any facial surgery. My sister has had several basil cell carcinomas removed by Mohs and they are barely visable – one very large on her face. I just had one removed on my back and they had to go back a second time as the edges weren’t clear after the first, but the scar there won’t show as backless dresses are long behind me.
Your story reminds me of my own past experience with a couple of growth on my face. I was in Paris and I went to a dermatologue I found in the Bottin. He told me not to worry and charged me FF150. But my French propriétaire later told me to seek second opinion with her dermatologue. Her Dr removed one by excision and there is no scar. She said the other one seems normal since it is there for a long time. I don’t know if she “pitied” me for being charged by the other Dr for having nothing done, her fee was cheaper. Anyway, Kristin, you should seek second opinion. Et bon courage.
A propos, si je ne me suis pas trompée, on dit “que puis-je faire pour vous” au lieu de “que puisse-je faire?”
Kristen this is not a funny matter. Tomorrow I am going to Jules Stein Eye Hospital in L.A, to have a melanoma removed from my left cheek that involes the lower eyelid. This is not my first rodeo!!. I have had skin grafts on my nostrils and a plastic surgeon who reconstructed my cheek after the dermatologist took off the cancer with Moh surgery. Yes there are experts in the field and you want the Best!! Please, a visit to a city with a top of the line facilities. Our thoughts and good vibes are with you.
PRAYERS for you, dear Kristin! All wonderful advice here for you, what a blessing.
Nothing to add because I concur with all the previous posts. I love your ending — Guts, Madame! — because that’s what surgery takes. I know how nervous you feel because I’m getting ready to have surgery on my neck. I try to worry only about the scar and how long it will be because it’s much worse to worry about all the other issues connected with having surgery or continuing without the surgery. But choose a doctor that makes you feel comfortable even while he tells you the whole truth. Then trust.
Adding to the chorus!! I’ve had four basil cell cancers, two on one side of my nose, one on the other, and one on my arm (grew up in Phoenix too. Too much sun!) DEFINITELY go to a specialist. I had MOHS twice. You definitely want someone who’s had a LOTof experience working on the face. Good luck! and love, Gayle
Dear Kristin,
I am preaching to the choir here, but I have had 4 MOHS surgeries with Dr, Jessica Fewkes here at Massachusetts General Hospital and you would never be able to tell where they were, even though they are around my nose and upper lips (very tight locations). MOHS allowed Dr. Fewkes to take only what was needed and made the recovery quick and eliminated scarring. Good luck whatever you decide!
Hi Kristin,
I’m thinking about you and hope you get a second opinion. It seems like a plastic surgeon should be involved in the process.
Take care!
Eileen
Hi Kristin,
I hope these spots are not serious and please don’t wait too long to have something done. My brother did and had to have reconstructive surgery in addition to the removal. I see that many people feel as concerned about you as I am. I have never had to look at so many responses to your posts than the two you have written about your carcinoma.
In the second picture in Faucon, I noticed the curtains looked like they were in the process of being “made”. Is that weaving or crochet? or something else?
Wishing you the best,
Sharon
I do believe you’ll find more prudent and caring advice in the comments section of your blog than any internet search could ever produce! Prayers and blessings to your healing!
Kristin,
I have also been through surgery for skin cancer, but mine was the even more dangerous kind, melanoma. The doctor took out a pea-sized section of the skin of my cheek right next to my nose, just below the corner of my eye. After the lab examined the section, the doctor called me to come back immediately because under the mircroscope, they realized the cut had not taken out the EDGE of every cancer cell. So I went back and the area of the cut was expanded. That was 6 years ago and the melanoma has not come back, which is wonderful as they do come back in 60% of the cases. KRISTIN, SKIN CANCER KILLS. You must have the surgery, but as other suggested, go ONLY to a specialist — not to a general surgeon. A specialist will know things a generalist will not.
My scar was white for awhile and quickly blended in to my skin. People cannot see it now unless they come within an inch of my face. You will still be beautiful with a little scar of life on your face, but we cannot lose you!
(In my book, Paws & Effect: The Healing Power of Dogs, I investigate the use of canines to discover a recurring skin cancer before a doctor or lab sample can find it. Fascinating.)
Sharon Sakson
Kristin
Looks like lots of good advice. I am just adding my two cents for coincidence sake. I had a pea sized squamous cell carinoma removed from the back of my hand 10 days before we left for Paris! I know its not the face but it has healed very well and gave me the opportunity to exercise my french to seek out some sunscreen at la pharmacie!
K, just to say my thoughts are w/you and I am sure you will find the right person for this surgery. Love, Pat
I thank you so much for being here for all of us.I hope somehow we also can “support” your needs now- if even in this silent way.
I hope nothing but the best in the outcome of what you are going thru.(here’s a long distance hug).
My parents were French but came to USA after WW2- I never learned French and now at age 52 feel if nothing more I need to learn alittle so I can one day search for my parents remaining families and be accepted finally by them. It is my only dream in life. To speak and be spoken to and understood.