Egypt and Dermatologist

January 5, 2015.


Passing Thoughts
I am five days into my New Years resolution of telling my tale, and the sad truth is that nothing has been in the press since January 1, about the Latvian journalist, one of the three journalists held by Egyptian authorities.  Last year my troubles paralleled the worry and stress that the families of the three captive journalists must be enduring today, and I hope that some justice will prevail in their case.  It is so easy to see corruption in foreign lands.

The Tale
Several years passed.  My love for the performing arts led me to support the local theatre.  MBI sposored the Christmas show, "Cinderella" intended for children.  This was not embraced by the Union Leaders at MBI, but rather triggered more anger against my husband.  The sponsorship of a theatre show was regarded as something elitist, Cinderella, apparently enough to agitate union bosses.

Niagara-on-the Lake, home of The Shaw Festival.
A well known accounting firm was hosting an outing to see a Shaw play and lunch for their clients, and I was lucky to sit beside the chief auditor.  During our private conversation over lunch, between fun topics and laughter, I heard for the first time that Greg had poured over $250 million in the rebuilding of the plant.  I had no idea of the math!!  The auditor told me that I should make sure that I work on getting a nest egg for Natalie and Karina.

That is how phase two started.  I needed to think how to get Greg to think about the welfare of his own family.  We lived in a beautiful home and had enough food to eat.  I looked after family life, and Greg looked after business.  I was satisfied up until that luncheon, as we had no substantive savings. Greg thought that his salray should be enough for us and that building a business and creating jobs would serve a greater purpose.  I kid you not, absolute altruism, and SO ANNOYING to live with.  I continued being thrifty, shopping sales and a regular Walmart shopper, just like every other working class resident of Hamilton, but the perception of the community was that we were incredibly wealthy, thanks to my taste and style, a lovely compliment I am sure, but again, breeding would prevent me from telling people the truth.

Eventually, I won again, and we bought land out in the countryside and the privacy that we needed to protect the family from anonymous threats became a welcome reality, and with that purchase our lives changed dramatically.  Hamilton was no longer our home town.  My tale can be stretched out and embellished, but the meat of the real story begins July, 2013.

A tiny black spot appeared on my chest, so black that my daughter Natalie noticed and asked,
"What's that?"  A dark spot equal to what a Sharpie laundry marker would make, a dot.  I was puzzled by it as well and relaxed a bit when the family doctor told me not to worry about it.  In August, 2013 I received a letter from OMB bank in Florida.  I was advised that I had to close my business accounts since I was a foreigner, and if I could not present myself at the bank immediately, if asked to do so, they no longer wanted the account.  I was offended by the letter, but my husband advised me that after 9/11 it is possible that American banks had new rules to prevent money laundering for terrorist activities, and that it was very likely that these were new government rules.  I had to close the accounts in person, as the balance in the accounts was over $1000 and the money could not be transferred over the telephone.

The two accounts needed to be closed by October 30 2013, so I made a plan to go see my dermatologist, check on the Florida properties after Canadian Thanksgiving, and get some R&R before the Christmas rush began.

All went according to plan.  Natalie came with me.  We both went to the dermatologist.  He thought my dot looked suspicious and was worth doing a biopsy and with a blade -- zip zip - nothing to it -- clip clip shaved it off.  Quick and easy.  Several days later Natalie left for Birmingham to visit her friends from Law School.  While she was en route, I received a phone call from the doctor asking to call him immediately.

And that is how I found out my dot was melanoma, and had to be removed within two weeks of the biopsy.