A few Sundays ago while we were getting ready for church, I once again noticed that my wife had two large moles on her shoulder. I have had the feeling lately that these two moles were blemishing an otherwise perfect 63 year-old body. I casually mentioned that maybe she should get them removed.
She responded that she would do it but it would be expensive. I reminded her that I have the capability to take care of the job in-house, which means that I could take them off her shoulder without her having to leave our home. Contemplating the situation, and not for the first time I might add, I began to feel just like the doctors of old who would visit the log cabins of those in need of medical attention.
I reinforced my prognosis with a wise and speedy comparative cost analysis of conventional medical procedures vs. my forward-thinking, quick and relatively cheap blemish removal wizardry that would leave any dermatologist in awe.
“How are you going to take them off?” She asked. “Please don’t tell me it’s that crazy liquid propane idea?” she begged. “We already did that once and my leg hurt for months.”
So I should probably insert a little info concerning an incident we had a few years ago. Michele had a growth on her leg that I was pretty sure I could remove. I was aware that doctors spray a little liquid nitrogen on skin spots to remove the blemish.
So I had a go at Mitch’s leg. I knew I had to destroy the mole but protect the nearby skin. Duct tape seemed like the medium I should use.
However, when I applied the LPG (Liquid Propane Gas) to the mole, the gas got a little frisky and managed to go where it was intended to go but also where it was not intended to go.
Perhaps my applicator (shown below) was not quite delicate enough for someone of the… shall we say, far more sensitive and far less-rugged skin composition.
Now I’ve been burned several times with LPG in larger areas of my body. At no time did I have duct tape running interference.
In fact, pages 333 and 334 in my book tell a very crazy, yet true story of me completely immersed in a geyser of liquid propane which instantly turned me into Frosty the Snowman. This went on for quite some time. I don’t think any still-living person on earth can claim an experience like I had on that particular day.
Which also brings to mind one hot summer day many years ago at my tire store, I filled a customer’s propane tank and then stood around and shot the bull with my buddy Scot. I idly wondered how fast the freezing liquid would dissipate in the hot sunshine. On a whim, I pulled the handle while aiming in the general area of Scot’s belt buckle.
I immediately felt bad, as did Scot. He sported a large red-hued groin for the next week or two. Like I said, I felt bad. It was one of those times when I immediately regretted acting on impulse.
I’m not sure if it removed any of Scot’s moles. I don’t think they had any more kids.
Back to Michele. This is the unapproved medical apparatus that I used to apply the mole- killing liquid.
From these past experiences, I knew LPG and my primitive applicator wouldn’t do the trick. I needed the same spray can as doctors use.
The can of freezing mist cost them three or four bucks which they then multiply by 100 or 200, totally depending on the vacation bills that showed up on their credit card bill that day. After their calculator spools down, they tack the total on your bill. The “going rate” is a thing of the past.
Which brings up another interesting phenomena. Whenever I ask a doctor how much a procedure is going to cost, he claims not to have a clue. Kinda like “It doesn’t really matter.”
Back when I was in the tire and propane business, I usually knew off the top of my head what a gallon of gas or a set of steel-belted radials was going to run. Do they really not know? Don’t it make you wonder?
Since I’m a propane guy from way back, I know that the boiling point of propane is 44 degrees below zero which isn’t that far off of the boiling point of nitrogen which is 320 degrees below zero. I also know they are both colder than a naked cowboy in a snowstorm with a barbed-wire belt.
I told my dear wife with the moles that I had upgraded my medical tool kit. Now I had a can of liquid nitrogen that was colder and much more effective at inflecting damage to moles than propane was. It had a little tiny straw that would keep the surrounding skin damage to a minimum.
Unfortunately, I think I used those exact same words when I was duct taping her leg.
I informed her that this time around, I would be successful. After the successful medical procedure, she would start calling me Doc Ben instead of her usual Unrecovering Idiot.
She said “I’ll tell you what. You can have a go at my moles as soon as you lose that belly of yours.”
Michele still has the moles.
But it’s made me wonder if my removal idea would work on beer guts? I think my next order of business is to try and get an appointment with Budweiser. They might be interested in a joint venture. I know I’ve got some LPG equipment to get us started.
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