Pelt

Herself speaks.

Ever since the second MOHS surgery for basal cell carcinoma, I've kept an (even tighter) eye on my skin. It is temperamental and eternally prone to Misbehavior. Two different doctors are involved in the care of my skin issues -- specialists for particular medical concerns -- and I see each individually at least twice a year. It pains me. Sometimes literally, sometimes merely metaphorically.

I am suspicious of a spot near the second MOHS scar. It is not behaving as regular skin should. The first time it acted up, I thought (wishfully), perhaps it is just a fluke. When it settled down, I breathed a sigh of relief, yet was well aware that it could resurface. And it did. With this recurrence in the same location, I am deeply suspicious. F*ck.

I called to see whether I could move my scheduled November appointment earlier, but there were no openings at the moment. So I wait. Fortunately basal cell carcinoma is slow-moving and very unlikely to metastasize, so my health is not in particular danger. It's hard, though, not to think about the possibility of a third MOHS, especially given the location on my face. If another MOHS is necessary, will a skin graft be a part of it? Will everything go well? How painful will it be? How horrified will the people around me be when they see my face while I heal?

Ultimately, the scars do not bother me. Waiting to take action does bother me very much, though. Every view in a mirror reminds me of the problem and the unpleasant possibilities.

Can I avoid looking in a mirror for a month until my appointment?
How will I know whether I have spinach stuck in my teeth, then?

Sometimes people banter about the questions: if you could change one thing about your body, what would it be?

The answer, for me, is simple: I would have healthy skin.

Perhaps in my next life.