If things have seemed a little dispirited around here (especially Twitter – eep!), I apologize.
I’m one of those
tortured souls lunatic masochistic idiots that gets really stressed out about stuff when you’re supposed to be having fun.
To say the final weeks of wedding planning have me a bit frazzled would be an obnoxious understatement. Like, INCREDIBLY OBNOXIOUS. But on top of the wedding stress, I took a little gut punch the other day.
A big, fat, dick-move, GUT PUNCH.
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See, Cancer (herein referred to as “the c-word”) is a big deal around our parts.
They say 1 out of every 2 Americans are affected by the c-word in some way, and that it’s (unfortunately) by no means an uncommon disease these days. But, after losing loved ones (most recently, here), watching friends struggle with the fight now, and having FOUR separate familial survivors currently in B’s family alone, I’d say we’ve had our share. Enough with the c-word, already.
Recently, BHibs had a really scary bout with Melanoma. She’s still not in the clear, and hearing the trials of doctors visits, surgeries, and awaiting lab results, I got nervous. Coupled with B’s cousin’s serious fight with melanoma, I decided to be proactive.
I scheduled a routine skin check with my dermatologist. I have fair skin, lots of freckles/moles, and was not diligent in my youth about wearing sunscreen. I was willing to pay a $20 copay for some peace of mind and assurance.
Friday afternoon I got the call about the samples they sent for biopsy. The news was NOT good. (Who calls with bad news 1 hour before the weekend starts??! DICK MOVE.)
Basal Cell Carcinoma (nonmelanocytic skin cancer)
and Junctional Nevus with Moderate Atypia (pre-melanoma mole)
I’ll be going in a few days to have additional cells excised from the areas that came back abnormal. Yes that means surgery, and yes that’s kind of scary. It also means I’ll have a pretty gnarly scar on my arm for the wedding.
But thinking about “what could have been” is even more frightful. I seriously get nauseous thinking about what these pesky little jerk cells could have done if they’d gone un-detected. So, in the most ass-backwards, selfish, sick way :
THANK YOU, BHibs & Andrea, for getting the c-word, raising awareness, and pushing me to be proactive.
(overprotective, motherly speech coming right up :)
Skin c-word is the most common cancer, but also one of the easiest to prevent, detect, and fight. Unlike organ and bone cancers that lurk in your body and attack without warning, our lovely epidermis does a pretty good job communicating with us. LISTEN TO IT!
Wear SPF. Keep an eye on those moles. Get an annual skin check. (Mine was covered by insurance since it’s a preventative exam, and took less than 30 minutes.)
Just add it to your annual exam list – you take care of your teeth, your eyes, and your lady parts; take care of your skin, too.
And that’s my spiel. I’m going to be fine – everything was caught early and is NOT life-threatening, so don’t fret. I just want to spread the word about what you can do to protect yourself. I don’t care if you have the most naturally tan, unblemished skin of life (lucky bastard) or you live in the basement and have never been exposed to the sun’s UV rays – find a doctor that makes house calls and get checked.
And if anybody has the hook up for sweet bandaids that match my wedding colors, send them my way. It’s going to be the hottest new bridal accessory!