Well, it only took 52 years and a couple of spots on my nose to finally make me realize I’m not invincible and I can’t (and shouldn’t) do what I did when I was younger just because I want to. You see, I’ve had this one spot on my nose for a year and when another one showed up and got bigger I pulled my head out of the sand and called the dermatologist. I figured they’d be nothing but there’s always that little nagging doubt. Well that doubt became reality when the dr’s office called and the tech, who was a bit too cheerful, told me it was basal cell carcinoma. Skin cancer.
This was at work.
On my birthday.
Not that anytime is a good time to hear those words but this timing was especially bad. As I sat there with tears streaming down my face writing things down, I still don’t really remember what she was saying in her perky voice, my boss came over and put her hands on my shoulder. Okay, maybe it was good that I was at work. I’m blessed in that I work with wonderful women who are also nurses.
So when I got home and told my family, I was in a better frame of mind, and although my hubby offered to be there with me I told him there was no need. It would be with a local anesthesia so how bad could it be?
Then I read the paperwork that came in the mail two days later. 3-5 hours, bring someone with you, possible plastic surgery, grafts, blah, blah, blah. Okay, now I’m realizing that this is not the same type of thing I went through when they scraped the moles off my nose the first time.
Oh, and the perky office tech told me that if “I had to have cancer, this is the best type to have.” Let me tell you, Mary Poppins has nothin’ on this chick. I’m surprised her next words weren’t, “And may the odds be ever in your favor!”
So the surgery is Monday, and I’m looking at things a bit differently now. Hats, long sleeves and the like. No one in my family has ever had skin cancer; and we are a group of sun worshipers. Okay, maybe not worshipers, but we certainly don’t slather on the sunscreen when we go out. I still won’t be doing that, not crazy about all those chemicals, but I will be making sure that exposed parts are covered.
I have a good sense of humor and that’s how I’m approaching this. Now when I think of the diagnosis I hear the words in the voice of Jerry Seinfeld. Skin cancer. Of course, I don’t think my dr would appreciate me calling her Pimple Popper, MD. And I won’t. She has me by the nose.