Tag Archives: Mohs surgery

I’ll be going through another round of Cancer surgery today.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking… didn’t she already have skin cancer surgery?  Yes, I did. Twice. This is number three.

The first spot was on my ear.  I had a full body check and everything else was fine.  The next spot popped up less than a year later on my arm.  Same thing… the rest of my body was fine.  Last June, another odd little spot appeared on my leg, and here I am.

Are you ready for the rant to wear sunscreen?  Well here it is.  WEAR SUNSCREEN DERNIT!  Believe me.  It’s just not worth it.  Hey Australia – You guys should slather yourself with it all the time.  Here in the USA, most of us don’t even think of it in the winter, but the truth is, the sun is the sun no matter what time of year it is.  You can’t feel it because it is cold out, but believe me.  It’s still there, and it can still cause damage.

This mohs surgery will take between four to twelve hours.  Most take four to six hours.  My own dermatologist has already removed the visible cancer, but the scar is already showing signs of the original infection.  The surgeon will remove what he can see, test it, and if cancer shows up, he will come back and remove more… and test it.  This will go one for as long as it takes until they no longer find any traces of cancer… and Yes, unfortunately… I will be awake through the entire procedure.

Are you diving for your sunscreen yet?  I would be.

Slather on that SPF 30 or higher and be safe… and if you get a spare moment… pray that I caught this in time and I will only have to go through one round of this surgery.

Cancer leaves Scars that you Cannot See

For those of you who may not be aware, I recently went through my second round of Cancer surgery.  If you’re interested in the kind, or the details, click here or here.

I’m cured at the moment.  Everything is fine.

Something unexpected happened to me the other day, though.

I sat on the floor, packing up the paperwork after finishing our taxes for the year.  I set one folder aside—the one with all the important investment information.  I realized that I was the only one in the house that even knew this folder existed, so I didn’t want to bury it in the filing cabinet.

My husband entered the room, and grabbed something from the table.

“Sweetie,” I said.  “Just in case anything ever happens to me, I need you to take this blue folder to a financial advisor.  He will tell you what to do.”

His face grew pale.  His expression blank.

I held up the folder.  “I will keep it on top so you can find it easily if you ever need it, okay?”

He stared at me for a moment more, before he burst into tears.  “It was just a little cancer spot,” he sobbed.  “You’re not allowed to die!”

I sat on the floor, stunned.  Actually dying was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.  I was just trying to be a responsible adult.

I jumped up and held him, his tears dampened my blouse.  “Sweetie, that’s not what I meant.  I just want to make sure you and the kids would be okay if…”

“Don’t say it!”  His body shook in my arms.  “I can’t do this without you.  You can’t die first.  You can’t leave me alone.  I need you.”

“Sweetie, don’t worry.  I’m not going to die.”

We held each other for a while, silent.

My husband is my rock.  He stood beside me, holding my hand while they cut the cancer from my arm.  He changed my bandages.  He took care of me.  It never occurred to me that he was just as scared as I was.

For the first time in months, the children didn’t interrupt our brief moment of intimacy.  He needed that.

Maybe I needed that too.

Sucking out all your creativity with one word: Cancer

Sorry, I know you are all expecting my normal Monday night Manuscript Red-line post, but I really felt like I needed to stray away from writing… just this once.

A year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Basal Cell Carcinoma.  It is a malignant form of skin cancer.  I was not surprised.  I had a cut on my ear that bled for a year straight while I was in denial.  My cell could not be treated with creams or freezing.  I needed to go through Mohs surgery.

In a Mohs procedure, the surgeon removes a layer of skin from the malignant area and tests it.  If it comes out cancerous, they take another layer and test it.  This could go on for hours, and you don’t know how many “cuts” you will need until it is all over.

Luckily enough, thanks to a very talented surgeon, I only went through one round of surgery, and was cured. And there was virtually no scar.

I prayed that this would be the end of it.  Until today.

Another “thing” popped up on my arm a month ago, and two weeks ago my doctor took a biopsy.  Today they confirmed it was malignant, and I will need surgery again.

I had a good cry.  Not because I was afraid of the surgery, but because I realized that I would be battling this for the rest of my life.

When I was growing up, no one even heard anything about skin cancer.  We never wore sunscreen.  I would lie out in the sun with the INTENTION of getting a sunburn.  One day of pain was worth it for the pretty glow I got for a week after.  If I only knew.

I am not telling you this to make you feel bad, or to share my pain.

The truth is, I am wired to teach people.  That is how this blog got started.  I thought it over, and if I can stop one person from going through what I will be battling for the rest of my life, then at least I am even.  If I can help two people, it would be great.  If I can help three… then it will all be worth while.

Please Please Please wear sunscreen when you go outside.  If you can sit in the shade, please do so.  I’ve been doing it for a year.  It can be done.

If you have children, please slather them with sunscreen, and give them hats.  Remember the backs of their ears.  That is where my first carcinoma appeared.

Please take skin cancer seriously.  It always happens to the other guy, until a doctor calls to give you the bad news.

Feeling better now.