Tuesday is Valentine's Day! Don't miss these excellent French terms of endearment. Be sure to scribble one of them into a card or, better yet, whisper one of these into someone's oreille! Photo "Waiting for some Sweethearts" taken in Paris.
bosse (bohce) noun, feminine
: bump
J'ai découvert une bosse sur la tête. I found a bump on my head.
A Day in a French Life… by Kristin Espinasse
(A review of the past four weeks…)
Sometime last month I began waking early each morning with a strong sense of apprehension.
"It has to come off," the dermatologist had said, confirming my worst fears. Dommage you didn't come in three years ago, it would have been a matter of a few stitches then…
After the surgery on my forehead, last fall, in which a lesion about the same size as the one of my nose was removed, I was afraid to go back under the knife. Given how much they took off for the similar-sized growth, might I lose my nose? (I remembered all those Google images for "basal cell carcinoma", and all my feverish internet searching which yielded horror image after horror image–including amputated noses!)
My middle-of-the night sweats continued. Then, something mind-altering happened. I discovered a bump on my head…
Fast as that I forgot about my nose. I turned all of my attention to the pea-size growth on the side of my head, une bosse as hard as a rock.
I wondered, was I being paranoid? Had the bump always been there?
At the Clinique de Provence the lab technician called me in a second time. "We need to take another X-ray…" I stepped back onto the machine, resting my back on its cold metal wall for balance. Following the technician's example, I put the tip of my finger on my head, indicating the bump's location, and stood so still I dared not breathe. As the X-ray began, the floor beneath my feet moved from side to side, like a fairground ride, only much slower. It was my mind that raced, in a marathon prayer.
Notre père qui est aux cieux.
Que ton nom soit sanctifié….
And then, briefly:
PleaseJesuspleaseJesuspleaseJesus!
"OK, you can wait in the salle d'attente…" The technician showed me out of the room.
The third time the technician returned, she informed me that the doctor wanted to do an échographie. More information was needed.
As I waited for the ultrasound exam, the woman beside me complained about her test results which indicated a sprained wrist. How would she cope? she wondered aloud.
I left the distraught woman, and was led into another room where I lay down on a table, letting the doctor smear a cold gel onto the side of my head. I watched the computer screen as the doctor ran a kind of large rollerpen over the bump.
"When did you first notice it?" he questioned, his accent as heavy as my own. Iran? Pakistan?
"A few months ago."
The ultrasound screen showed my scull, which looked like the surface of the moon. A little farther along this smooth surface, we saw the bump. The doctor paused to measure it: 7.2 mm
"Have you seen other patients with these kind of bumps on their heads?" I wanted to know.
"Ne vous inquiètez pas," he assured me. The bump was hard and not soft. I took that to be a good sign, guessing that tumors were soft. "But you will need to have a brain scan…" he added.
The doctor was kind enough to make the appointment for me at the hospital in Orange. The downside, I would need to wait one week until I could have the necessary test.
During the one-week attente, I rarely thought about my upcoming operation for the removal of the lesion on my nose. It seemed absurd, now, to worry about a patch of skin, one that could easily be removed. But how would a bump on the side of my head be removed? Should it be removed? And then it occured to me: if there was a problem with my head, then maybe there would not be an operation on my nose afterall…
In the following days I thought about the many undones in my life. I would need to burn my diaries! Also, would there be time to make another book? I would want to save these blog stories for my kids to enjoy one day… as a way for them to know their mom better–she is not the overserious maman that they mistake her for. …Please, dear God, make it so that this bump is benign–it is my kids who need their mother, my husband who needs his wife, my mom who needs her daughter, my family, friends who need…
On January 12th, my friend Phyllis accompanied me to the hospital, where I had a brain scan. An hour later, when the doctor called me into her office, we had not sat down before she announced: c'est bénin.
I repeated the foreign words enough times for them to register, before throwing my arms around the conservative doctor, and babbling the news to Phyllis, who I could have KISSED! And maybe I did.
Ten days ago I had that second lesion on my face removed. Wide awake this time, I can tell you that the operation went beautifully and I am the proud wearer of 17 rock star stitches that travel down my nose like a backward "L"…
During that interminable week of waiting for the brain scan, I had tried to decide just what was the most important thing in life–or what would be the most meaningful way to live out the rest of one's days, whether that be one month or one decade. I am honored to have the answer stitched down the side on my nose, beginning in one great "L". Love–loving everyone who we come in contact with: the lovely ones and even the grumpy ones. Especially the grumpy ones!
I get my stitches out on Wednesday. I often look in the mirror, just to check them, and to remember to say thanks. And I am thankful for this bump on the side of my head (my husband calls it my corne, or "horn", indeed, I am a Capricorn! And this boney bump–though it may not be as grand as the mythic goat's–is a great reminder to live strongly, fortified by love.
I appreciate your comments! To respond to this story, click here.
French Vocabulary
dommage = too bad
une bosse = bump
Notre père qui est aux cieux. Que ton nom soit sanctifié…. = Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy name
la salle d'attente = waiting room
une échographie = ultrasound
ne vous inquiètez pas = do not worry
une attente = wait
c'est bénin = it's benign
Tip: Check out our "What to do in Paris?" page, and see all the great tips that readers have sent in!
Meantime, here one more tip: Visit the American Libary: this week Robert Camuto is speaking. He is part of a three person wine/cheese/perfume panel! Check it out here.
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I am so glad the “bump” turned out benin, and that your nose surgery turned out well. I can’t add much to what others are saying, but you certainly know how much we think of you.
Anne from Tucson
To turn your fear and the pain of the those 17 stitches into an “L” that stands for “love”??!??
Beautiful and inspiring writing, Kristin. Thanks for sharing that with all of us and hoping you are feeling better.
All the best to you on a speedy recovery!
Scott
Dear Kristin,
Yippee! Yahoo! Hooray! This is the best news for you and your family, as well as for your extended family of readers.
There must have been one great collective exhale from all of us who read this post.
Continued blessings and best wishes!
L is for lovely too – which you are! What a good example you set for all of us. You are our hero and our lady. I agree with Jules – take it easy and find a beautiful dress to wear for the springtime.
love and hugs to you
What an incredibly frightening time it has been for you and your family. Life is messy for all of us and it is how you cope with the lows as well as the highs is what helps us to grow and become better, more compassionate people. Your positive outlook and writing that you share with us is inspiring and not only helps you to channel your energy but also helps others who may also going through hard times find courage. You are a brave and beautiful person. Be proud. 🙂
xx
Oh Kristin, Joy and celebration! I have been in that ‘place’ once when it was not good and more recently all good. But, the wait, the prayer, the dire thoughts during the wait; it’s all a trauma and now you can breathe and be thankful! You have a world of friends here all sending love and wishing you peace and gratitude, including moi! jan
Kristen, You had me holding my breath!!!Bless you and yours. I have had many skin cancers removed of late but I am older than dirt. Who cares? You and your young, beautiful family do not need this type of worry. You writing is so descriptive I feel as if I am involved with your every day life. I pray this is the last of this type of story, though.
Chere Kristin,
I got a rock in the pit of my stomach when this post showed up in my in-box. I was reluctant to read it for fear it contained bad news (especially given the recent post about Ginny). I am so relieved to hear that you are recovering and that the “bosse” was “benin”. Many good thoughts and thankful prayers.
Kristin,
Thanks so much for your courage in posting the photo of your previous,forehead stiches. I am inspired by your approach to your new incision: ‘rock star stitches’! I can totally relate to your fears because I go under the knife for basal cell on my lower eyelid next month. God only knows what the reconstruction will look like. I looked at all those horrifying photos on the internet, too – who could sleep after that?
Now I’ll try to adopt your attitude instead of being a complete poulet.
Thanks for your openness and courage,
Rosemary in KY
Dear Kristin,
I too was holding my breath during your story. I’m so glad that your news was good. Rest and enjoy Valentines day.
With warm wishes and positive thoughts from Bermuda
Oh what a sweet story. We can all learn a few lessons from it to make our own lives a little better. Strong love.
You have been blessed with a talent few were granated. Your voice rings true, and is far more powerful than an “H” carved in your forehead, or an “L” in your nose. You use your voice to bear witness, and you walk in a state of grace. Perfection is not sustainable-it is fleeting-ask a daylily.
May your prayers be granted. I pray for your peace of mind and strenth in both body and spirit. You are loved.
C’est déjà le 14 Février chez vous. Je vous souhaite, à toi Kristin et à Jean-Marc, une Bonne et Joyeuse St Valentin!
Many of us have had times when we were waiting for results for a loved one or for ourselves, and especially when it’s a form of cancer, it is hard not to be concerned.
I will be praying for all of you, and Kristin, that you will not have scars eventually. But not only are scars the least of our worries considering the alternative, the real person isn’t an appearance – he or she is a personality, a spirit, which will not change even if one’s appearance is altered a bit.
I hope that Jean-Marc, Max, and Jackie are being ultra-careful with their skin, too, as you all live in an area with strong sunlight for much of the year, and running a vineyard brings one outside for long periods.
Best wishes always.
Kristin,
So glad your scare wasn’t so bad after all. Please stay well. You forgot one set of people who also need you, your readers, followers, fans. You brighten more days than you can imagine! You’re a good lady.
Myra Wood, New Orleans, dreary wet evening in the 50s.
Dear Kristin,
So happy you have such a good result. And now you
can celebrate a truly happy and loving St. Valentine’s Day
with your family.
Would you consider printing the Our Father in French for those
of us who would like to learn it in French?
Thank you dear Kristin.
Dear Kristin,
I am honored to read your sharing of what must have been a very trying few weeks. SO glad that the report was “c’est benin”.
Elaine in AL where sleet is hitting the windows.
Dear Kristin, Another round of “thank you Lord” for your continued wellness. I feel as if I know you, just as so many others feel. You are such a blessing. I too have been sliced and diced for breast cancer and melanoma, and as I grow older (all of 59!), I learn to appreciate each day even more. Continuing to keep you in my prayers, Jackie from Pennsylvania where the snow is refreshing and exhilarating..
C’est déjà le 14 Février chez vous. Je reviens vous souhaiter, à toi, chère Kristin, et à ton beau mari Jean-Marc, une Bonne et Joyseuse St Valentin!
I am thrilled your bump was benign and you can wear your new nose proudly – The ‘L’ for love has taken on an even greater meaning… tears in my eyes – it is Valentine’s Day here is Australia, very warm and sunny and we should all be grateful for the loved ones that surround us.
Kristi,
Am so glad that c’est bénin. How is your forehead?
How interesting that I did not read your blog about the bump on your head until today–the same day I discovered one on the side of my own head. It does start making one think about what is important in life. Now to get this bump/lump checked out!
My dear Kristin, You have been so brave through all of your medical “adventures.” So happy for the “Benin” DX. Now you need to rest and take care of that “L-shaped” mark. Time is a great healer, physically and emotionally. You have everything in perspective dear girl. Thank you for sharing your strength, courage and your fears with us. Wish I could give you a much-deserved (((hug))).
You are as lovely as can be! I hope your day is filled with kisses and hugs from your darling family.
Kristin,
I so enjoy your blog and you generously sharing your life’s
adventures with us readers. You are inspirational. Hugs, PJ Connecticut, USA
Very good news. Your readers and acquaintances rejoice along with you and your family.
Best,
I’m reading this on Feb 14 in Connecticut, so a belated Happy Valentine’s Day.
Glad that your surgery went well and that you caught the bump early and that it is benign.
My husband is in the kitchen cooking a lovely meal for me (and my mother who lives in an in-law apartment) for Valentine’s Day.
This brought tears to my eyes. We are all so fragile. Every day I try to find something enjoyable around me; something beautiful to reflect on. Live life to the fullest, minute by minute.
What a frightening experience! we are so glad you had the good news que c’etait benin! God bless you. Lois
Hi Kristi, verrrrrrrrrrrrrry happy that everything is good and you continue to write so positively. Violet has named her big scar on her leg “Ringo Scar” – yours seem to be named by the letter L for love. Stay strong and come and visit us soon. Love and big hugs, Michele xoxox
You are such a beautiful soul! I’m so happy to hear that all is well.
Blessings!
un bonjour et un grand merci pour les textes charmants, de Mia qui vit en Allemagne, près de Hambourg . Je suis prof de langues et au moment j’enseigne l’anglais et le français et j’aime bien votre “mixture”…liebe Grüße, Mia Van Ransbeek
I can’t believe I’m so late reading this story. Am so sorry you had to go through all that and am so relieved that you got good news. Nothing like a near miss to bring us thudding to earth and reminding us of the multitude of joys and blessings in our lives and the present moment.
Again, was so glad to read the good news a la fin!
MERVEILLEUX!
dorothy d’ abbotsford b c
Wow, Kristin! Late to the party, I missed this post from earlier in the week. You are so brave and good. Glad to hear all has turned out well, and know that you appreciate life more and will worry less about the minor scars. As an aside, I loved hearing the silly woman whining about a sprained wrist when you were awaiting life and death news. We all need to put our “smaller” concerns in perspective!
Chère Kristin, vous êtes ma héroïne!
Welcome Back! It is with much worry that I read your post. The pictures of your recent surgery were quite interesting and disturbing. Please take good care of yourself. I know what it is to worry for a week before results of a medical test are withheld due to a doctors’ out-of-town meeting. I had a spot on my lung–completely fine, and not even a little problem, while preparing for an operation to cut open my neck and remove a Zenker Diverticulum. That is a pocket in my esophagus which should not have been there. All is fine and my incision is barely noticeable. I am trying to think of it as a battle scar from a life well lived. The best to you and yours.
Kristin:
Bon courage ! It is Marilyn again. I have just finished reading ” Blossoming in Provence “. This is a followup to the note I sent you yesterday. I now understand why this book is more introspective. Life is fragile and we really need to embrace each moment of innocent pleasure, far from the artificial world of useless , material possessions. Wishing you continued success in your quest to share your French dreams with all Francophiles. Merci et bises.