Wear
sunscreen.
Wear. sunscreen.
In 1993, I
found a mole on my leg that looked scary. When my doc saw it, he said, “That’s
coming off today.” Two weeks later I was told it was a melanoma, that I would
be having surgery to remove a large chunk of tissue from my leg, and further treatment might be needed if the cancer had metastasized.
Post-surgery
I was relieved to hear that the first pathologist was incorrect; the mole was
really a basal cell carcinoma, and not much of a threat.
From that
time going forward, I stopped tanning my legs, always wore long pants, began using a moisturizer
with sunblock, and always wear a hat or cap while outside to protect my face
and my eyes. (A colleague was diagnosed with melanoma in his eye. He lived less than a year after his diagnosis.)
Fast forward
a few decades….
I generally
spend August picking peaches off my tree (eating them, freezing them, giving
them away) and writing poetry for the Cascadia Labs Postcard Poetry Fest. This
August, while I did do those things, I spent some quality time with first my
dermatologist, then a surgeon. Because, after months of pleading for a
dermatology appointment, I finally got one—and yep, I was right, I had a
couple of spots of skin cancer.
One of those
spots was a melanoma.
Damn.
Damn damn
damn.
Let me tell
you right now that the cancer was in situ (confined to the lesion
itself) and had not metastasized. I am a lucky, lucky girl.
So now I have
a four-inch scar down my arm (which will fade with time, I know) and the sense
of gratitude that wells up when we realize that, shoot, this could have gone in
a whole different direction. When my surgeon called to let me know he’d gotten
clear margins, that I was free to “go live my life” as long as I see my
dermatologist on a regular basis, I thanked him profusely, then ended the call
and sobbed in relief for twenty minutes.
I don’t want
to be sick or undergoing treatment. I suck at that. I want to be writing, and I
want to be out hiking (which, by the way, no doubt led to this skin cancer, as
I had covered everything except my arms, so now I’m wearing UV blocking sleeves
whenever I am out in the sun).
My beloved
readers… wear sunscreen. Cover up. Take good care. Some cancers, as we know,
are preventable. Let’s be smart together, okay?
For your edification
(and because we’re getting close to Halloween, ha ha ha), I have posted below
photos of my arm immediately post-surgery, then as the healing progressed. Don’t
feel compelled to look unless you want to.
Here’s to
your good health! Sláinte!
