Sunday, July 3, 2011

Holy Moly

… Or should I say “moley.”

I thought I had been blessed “freckly.” There is nothing wrong with freckles, I think it gives people character. I was unfortunately informed recently by my dermatologist however that most of these thought freckles were actually moles. 


I had just learned the difference between moles and ground hogs – which by the way – ground hogs are the size of small dogs. Neither one do I want to see in real life! Anyway… not the moles he was referring to.

I had arrived at the decision to see the skin doc because one of my moles on my back had started hurting. Probably not a good thing I thought to myself… hurting moles most certainly mean cancer… and if you have a mole that turns into cancer… that means you have malignant melanoma… and 7000 people a year die from that dreaded disease. (Yeah finding a mole that hurt was a slippery slope for me.) 

So I call my hospital’s dermatologist office who’s receptionist tells me that she can fit me in three years from yesterday. Okay, maybe she said September… but with my fretting it might have well been three years. 

“I am assuming these skin cancer things are non-emergent then?” 

In a nasally voice she answered, “No, if it’s hurting, that’s probably not a good thing.”

Greeeeaaaattt.  “So what do you suggest?”

“Probably calling another dermatologist.”

“Perfect. Thanks. Bye.”

Well thank goodness there was a satellite dermatology location south of the city, and I give them a ring. Initially the receptionist there told me August, which sounded a whole lot better than September, but all of the stars aligned and she was able to get me in that afternoon.

And you know what I thought, “I must have cancer if God wanted me to get in that quick.”

I might work in medicine… but if I get sick then it’s pretty much the end of the world. Oh, have I never shared? I am a hypochondriac. 

So I meet my dermatologist who is a sweet man.

“So you say you have a hurting mole on your back?”

“Yep” I respond.

“Well can you tell me which one?”

Wait. What? And that’s when he informed me that my once cute freckly back was actually covered in moles. Eeeewwwwwss.

He tells me in a nice way that my panicked brain could understand, he wasn’t worried. He wanted to remove the back mole and a few others though and send them off just in case.

Okay I can do that. I would have to look at my calendar. As I wipe my brow and move to jump off the table he stops me and tells me that he wants to remove them right now. 


Okay, I did’t scream it outloud… but I mentally did. On cue the nurse brought in a 100 cc syringe of a liquid and butcher knife. 

I had thought I would have to come back in. I was not prepared for this. 

Well I survived…. Even after being told to lay down since I appeared (and felt) faint. Hahaha. I think they were starting to disbelieve that I was a nurse.

I find out the pathology in about a week… hope my little moles behave. Currently I feel like I have been scalped. Oh wait. I have.

RIP back moley mole. I will miss you. In memory of this and my other moles, I felt it only appropriate to include Austin Power’s encounter with a mole.

(It looks funny because when I was little I poked it with my finger nail. Whelp, it never really regained its shape.)
(You ask why I took a picture of my mole? It was on my back and I couldn't really see it otherwise! haha)

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