Skin sense

I am a hypochondriac in the sense that if I read an article or see a news story on something affecting someone my age, I freak out. Case in point: I read an article a couple of weeks ago about this 22 yr. old girl (younger than me!) that had skin cancer... she spent a lot of time at tanning beds and didn't wear sunscreen when she was a teenager. I thought this reporter could possibly have been stalking me when I was a teenager and that this story was actually written about me... my idea of fun and leisure in high school? Going to tanning beds or laying out. Sunscreen? Never. Destined for massive wrinkles in about 2 years? Probably. Skin now two shades darker than it should be without abnormal sun exposure? You got it.

Choosing to ignore all of the warnings, I never really thought I could get skin cancer...until I recently realized how naive that thought was. After reading this article and becoming somewhat panicked, I looked at and analyzed my moles and of course every single last one of them (out of the zillions I now have) scared me to kind of an irrational state. I'm sure Tim got sick of saying "No, honey, you are not dying," after I made him observe and investigate each mole as if he were a surgeon performing brain surgery.

Yesterday was THE appointment. The doctor said that there was a really dark mole that should probably be taken off... next thing I know I have a FIVE INCH DAGGER and an intense jolt of stinging pain in my right shoulder blade... and the mole was gone. SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME ABOUT THAT NEEDLE! After getting over the shock of having something so foreign jabbed into my body, all I have now is a huge hole in my back. But, thankfully I do not have skin cancer...although I am now down one in the count of my multiples of moles or of what remains of my tanning days.