Skin Cancer ~ Holy Moley!

So that's what the Lady Doctor said. We'll call her Dr. Derriere Derma.

This was not a routine check-up but a referral from not one, but two other physicians who said recently..."You know Ms. Pencil Skirt, I think you should have a dermatologist look at this place on your back."
Of course, I, in typical hypochondriac-swoon-dramatic fashion replied, "WHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAT??!" What does it LOOOOKK like??! Is it...is it....?"

And thus began the story of the 3 moles. 

We'll call them Molly (#1) Milly (#2) and Sully (#3)

Me?

I was just sulky.

Rewind 2 months ago: Doctor Death #1 and bearer of good news overall: "Miss Pencil Skirt, I think you should have this place on your lower back looked at by a dermatologist. Juuuuust in case." 
"WhhhhhhhhhhhhhAAAAAAAAAAAt??! What does it LOOOOOOK like?" Is is...is it...?
"Well, you never can be too sure. Just have it looked at it. Okay?"
Molly was born.

He sure knew how to raise a girl's blood pressure.
One week later: Enter Doctor Death of The Hypertension Variety #2:  Well, you're not so good on the BP today, Mimi, but I don't see what the fuss is about Molly. Looks fine to me. Don't worry about it."
"But Doctor D #1 insisted I have it looked at it."
"Don't know what he was seeing but I don't think it's necessary."
Exhale and exit. I went to get an ice cream cone before the cholesterol meds start. Why not?
Blood pressure lowered and beginning to feel like a see-saw.
Doctors! Can't they agree on annnnything?

I started to leave.
"Oh, wait, Miss PS....this one right here however. Ummm.....that one needs to go."
Meet Milly. 

"Whhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttt? What does it LOOOOOOOKKK like?"
**checking blood pressure again**
"It's dark, it's sorta round and it should come off."
"There??! You mean thhheeerrrree??!
"There, Miss Pencil Skirt."
"Does it look baaaaaad?"
**doctor D #2 snickered**
"It should be removed."
"You mean right away?"
"I'll get you an appointment with Dr. Derma Derriere if you'd like."
"Okay. But ...but...but...
I'd say anytime in the next year will be fine."

"But that's the one we've been WATCHING. I KNEW I should have been watching. SOMEbody should have been watching and it certainly has not been me. I'm doomed!! All this time I've been watching the wrong thing, Doctor Death #1 has been watching the wrong thing and besides, I can't even see it unless I contort myself at an excruciating angle in the bathroom mirror. How am I supposed to watch something I can't see? What kind of convoluted medical advice is that??" You KNOW I'm a hypochondriac. I shouldn't be told to watch things I have no peripheral power over."

It's in the Constitution.

Doctor Doom #2 was not amused.

"Anytime in the next Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr will be fine, Mimi."

He laughed out loud all the way down the hall.

It was so not necessary.

Sigh.

Heavy, heavy sigh.

Molly is a distant memory. Milly's days are numbered.

Exit Dr. Doom #2 of the Hypertensive kind. 

Enter Dr. Derriere Derma

At this point I am so wishing I hadn't spent quite so much time in the sun at the beach this summer. Give me a few months to play and look what happens. 
So by now I've been put on blood pressure pills (for real) and referred by 2 different physicians who can't agree on which affliction should be removed nor why the other one even has a medical license. I meant the mole, not the doctor. I think.
Off to the Dermatologist I go for the final verdict. I take Molly and Milly with me, dressed to the nines and ready to meet their Mole Maker.
Molly on the back, Milly on the never-mind and me. Just call me Silly.

I hate needles.

I hate pain.
I can't stand the thought of what is about to happen.

So I'm waiting in my blue and white checked ball gown, legs dangling off the edge of the table, feet and French manicured toes propped up on the doctor's white round stool when in waltzes Dr. Derriere Derma Darling Girl That She Is.  She is nice. She is even pretty.  I knew a nice pretty doctor with a soft voice and kind eyes would not hurt me.

Think again.

Do you see that picture on the wall behind my pencil head? That is a medical degree.

I hope. I am praying at this point that the mere child who just left my room of doom didn't mail order that diploma, cause Molly and Milly are really sweating it out in the blue checkered ball gown. Me?  

I'm just comatose.

And a tad blue

Waiting for the scalpel. Saying last rites for the twins.

After I take the appropriate blog pictures, totally ignoring the Turn Off Your Cellphone sign, she returns with a microscope, a flashlight, and a salami sandwich I just made that up ready to examine me from head to pencil toe.  After much ado about freckles and fair skin, she finds the soon-to-be-mutilated Molly. I'm sure I heard a rebellious whimper. 

"So, Doctor DD, what do you think?"

"It's fine."

"But...Doctor Doom #1 said..."

"It's fine."

"But..."
"Nothing to worry about."

YIPPEE!!

Molly is positively beaming with pride. Milly is looking nervous. 

"OK, doc. We've been watching Milly for 20 years (literally). Dr. Hypertension Man said she has to go to mole heaven now. Let's do the deed."
"She's fine."

"Reeeeaaaaaaaallllllly?"

"But Dr. Doom #2 said...."

"You need to chill, Mimi."

YIPPEE!!!

But wait. Can I trust her? Two doctors have already been dead wrong. Pun intended. 
This girl is wet-behind-the-ears.

So my head is spinning with the exuberant news that Molly and Milly are going to live on the shores of my bathing suit once again. Excellent!
Until I hear....
"Sit still, Miss Pencil Skirt. I think we may have a problem."

"Ouch! That hurt!"
"Hmmmm....said the Doctor, "this looks like a basal cell spot. Or it could be a squamous."
"CELL?? 
"WHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAT??!" What does it LOOOOKK like??! Is it...is it....? You mean c.a.n.c.e.r?"
"Yes," she calmly and emphatically replied.
 "Do you think it really is?"
"Yes," she calmly and emphatically replied.
"You think it's a cancer spot?"
"Yes," for the third time.
"But that's not even what I came IN here for!!!" 
"I'll be right back with the nurse. It'll be over in a flash. The biopsy and removal will only take......" 
"BIOPSY??!"

Meet Sully.

I call her the Surprise Mole.

Sort of like Haydn's Symphony

But sneakier

Suddenly Molly and Milly were a distant third cousin thrice removed memory and the deed was over in a flash and I wasn't such a baby about the needle MUCH and it was done.
Three different doctors. Three different findings. Three different opinions.
So confusing. She tried to reassure me but my mind went to the worst case scenario. It's a curse coping mechanism. And so typically me. I need knowledge. I need answers. I need to have a plan. I drive myself crazy. 
Then I had to wait six days to find if it was just superficial, if it really was basal cell or squamous or something else, how deep it was and to rule out melanoma...just in case.

The waiting. That was the hard part.

Of course I drove my friends nuts in the meantime, whined a lot, pouted a lot and been a general pain in the derma derriere. But seriously. It's the first time I've heard the definitive C word in my lifetime. It's an odd feeling, even if it's not potentially a serious malignancy. 
I've had suspicious findings before but never the definitive C word.

I had to say the word. I had to write the word. I wrote some friends. They bzzzzzed back advice and love and Akelamalu sent Reiki to me.  My mind took turns down roads of chemotherapy and how it would surely take the sass right out of my priss.  What a shallow thought. But real. So real.

I thought of all the people I'd known who had cancer. How brave they were. How they were going along in their lives and then one day BOOM something is found and their life changes. I thought of all those who live cancer free after treatment for years and years and it never comes back. That happens too. It's happening more and more these days. How they must value each precious day.  I thought of this incredible man who taught me the meaning of dignity in the face of dying. And how if things turned out for the worse, that I would try not to whine and carry on too much....and remember there but for the grace of God go I.  I thought of this one and that one who are facing treatment right now, sharing with us and keeping us informed, making us laugh and giving us insightful posts on peace and life in general - even when they and their families are in crisis and struggling.  And this one who recently lost her mother to the disease. How much fortitude it must take to carry on when they are bone tired and stressed. And I angrily thought of all the dollars wasted in this country on things that matter not when cancer research funding, stem cell research funding too, should be at the top of the list.  No one is immune from it, everyone has been affected by it, all fear a day when the word might be spoken to them.

But today, much to my surprise, I heard a most beautiful definitive B word.

How thankful I am. 
How exhausted I am just dealing with the possibility for a mere six days. It doesn't matter now that three doctors were wrong. I'm just glad one was.
I have a new appreciation for those who are battle worn and brave. 
For I do think they're brave.

So I'd like to encourage you to do 4 5 things:  
Get thee to a skin screening. Get an opinion. Get a second opinion. Get a third opinion. And then get an opinion on the third opinion. 
Don't go to Google and start researching the terms before you get back to the doctor or you WILL go crazy.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to break the news to Homer. 

There's a funny looking spot on his right paw.

He has an appointment with Dr. Derma Derriere.

Don't worry, Homer.

It won't hurt.

Much.