I’m not meant to fish for a week and I bet you there are bass everywhere!

What do surgeons and doctors know anyway? Surely in these times of social media, conspiracy theories and online experts, those years of medical training don’t mean that much anymore? Yesterday morning I was strongly advised not to go fishing for a week, but of course I’m wondering if the surgeon really knew what he was talking about and whether me and my access to Google and of course the font of world knowledge that is Facebook are actually better informed! Who knows more than a male angler who wants to go fishing eh?!

A while ago I started to feel something growing around the area of my left shoulder blade on my back. If you have read this blog for a while then you might remember that I had a melanoma (the skin cancer you really don’t want) a few years ago, so I did the right thing and made an appointment at my local GP surgery to get it checked out. They got me in there with no delay because I guess I flag up with anything skin related on my medical records, and a friendly GP had a look and a prod around and said that the thing on my back didn’t look particularly suspicious. I asked for a second opinion because I heard the same thing last time around when in fact the thing on my lower leg turned out to be a melanoma, and to be fair the GP said that with my history they would like me to get another opinion up at Derriford hospital anyway.

Again there wasn’t much delay between appointments, and the couple of doctors who had a good look at me up at Derriford said that whatever it actually was on my back was most likely not serious but they would like it cut off and sent off for analysis. Yesterday was my first Father’s Day without a dad to either hug, kiss or at least call and talk to, so I went for a 5k run first thing and then headed up to Derriford to get the thing cut off my back. I thought they would simply slice it off and put a plaster over it - remember, who needs years of medical training?! - and not for one second did I think it would be anything more.

I did wonder why they injected anesthetic four times around the thing on my back, but hey ho I was lying on my side and smiling about the adorable cards my two girls had given me that morning for Father’s Day. In no time at all I could sense but not actually feel that there was some cutting or slicing going on around my shoulder blade area, but then I got the impression that there was some stitching going on as well. I asked if they were putting stitches in and the surgeon said yes, so I carried on lying on my side, keeping as still as possible, and got to thinking about this morning’s high water at about 7am when a little bit of swell was forecast to be there. With the size of the tide I knew exactly where I wanted to be literally right about now as I am typing this blog post, so while I could just about feel this sensation of pushing and pulling and snipping going on around my back, I got on with thinking about how I was going to approach this particular bass fishing session.

When the surgeon told me I could sit up and put my shirt back on, he then looked at me and said that I should not be doing anything too “physical” for a while. I asked him if that meant fishing, and without thinking I stupidly showed him my casting action - to which he said no bloody way should I be fishing like that for at least a week. He said I could very likely tear the wound open and it would need stitching up again. I kicked myself for having asked the question, and especially when I subsequently read the leaflet I was given and it didn’t mention anything about not casting a lure for a week. As I said earlier, who knows more than a male angler who wants to go fishing?

I spoke to a mate who went and found a bunch of bass yesterday evening - aaarrrgghhh!! - and he is a bit like me. No medical training whatsoever, but between us there is of course every chance we could actually know more than the surgeon who cut the thing out of my back yesterday. This mate of mine helpfully suggested smearing a load of superglue over the wound on my back and then heading out fishing. Bloody genius if you ask me, indeed I was left wondering why on earth the (trained) surgeon hadn’t suggested this very course of action! I told my wife how clever this approach sounded, but for some reason she hadn’t heard about it as a feasible course of action either. Strange one eh? Two male anglers, what on earth don’t they know?

I am joking around of course. I didn’t go fishing this morning and in fact I felt pretty wobbly on my feet when I went for a dog walk with my wife at 6am. My shoulder area is a bit sore and I remarked to my wife that it would surely have done me some good to go yomping up and down a couple of cliffs with the strap of my rucksack rubbing exactly on top of the wound - before I had started casting repeatedly. I won’t repeat what she actually said because it didn’t make for great English, but it was along the lines of twat, idiot, and fool, only a little less polite.

There is every chance that what they cut off my back is nothing bad at all, but at least the “thing” is going off to be analysed. I did the right thing by getting it checked out, and if any of you out there have anything suspicious growing or appearing on your skin then please take me as an example of needing to get this sort of stuff looked at. If the thing on my back is actually a BCC (Basal cell carcinoma, the most common form of skin cancer) then by cutting it out it should be sorted, and if the results come back as something worse then I will deal with it. All I do know for the moment is that I am not meant to go fishing for a week and I can bloody bet you that my local coastline is going to come alive over the next few days! Why did I ask the surgeon about going fishing? Where’s the superglue?