What to make of these

Dr Burr: (Looking very closely at the left medial eyebrow on my face) You've been picking at that, haven't you.
Me: (Thinking, Wow, he didn't call me kid this time) No. (And that was the truth.)
Burr: Hmmm. (He looks again at my sizeable file.)
Me: (Silent.)
Burr: Oh, we did surgery on that, didn't we.
Me: Yes.
Burr: (Again looking at my files) Hmmm. (Then again at my eyebrow) Looks like it's coming back.
Me: (Silent but full of thought and dread.)
Burr: (Again looking at my files, saying nothing.)
Me: I don't want it to come back.
Burr: Oh, it won't.
Me: (Silent, but thinking, Huh?).

* * *

Sunday I was admiring someone's hair and said to the person seated next to me, "I wish I had hair like that, so beautiful, and so much of it."

She said, "Your hair is (did she say?) beautiful."

I said a half-hearted thank you and felt sorry about the half-heartedness of it.

She said, "We do the best with what we were given." It was kind of a little lecture just for me. And she repeated it.

I felt a bit ashamed. Actually hung my head.

I thought about it most of the day and figured I needed to repent and take her words to heart . . . until I remembered this one thing. SHE HAD HER NOSE "FIXED."