Today I went to the doctor. I had a few things on my list one of which was something strange on my back. Not a mole, not psoriasis (which I have had since I was 7) but something different and more worrisome.
I am a fair skinned person who burns easily and have had my fair share of painful exposures to the sun. In adulthood, I have avoided the suns rays as much as possible. Once while on vacation in Thailand a friend took a picture of me on the beach except you couldn't see me- I was sitting in a bunch of bushes fully covered by sarongs and a hat. You can almost make out flecks of colour through my leafy camouflage.
Those first few words were written a few days ago. I had to let things percolate. I was waiting for my follow up appointment but due to weather it has been postponed until Monday. So here it is: Cancer.
If you have to have Cancer this is the best one to get. Basel cell skin cancer has a 99% cure rate. On average 30 % of white people get this type of skin cancer. I am whiter than white so I am not surprised by this development.
The thing that has been bothering me is that C-word. What other less-likeable forms of that multifarious disease may be lurking in me.
Every day I touch that bump on my back and feel like my body has betrayed me. I have had enough health problems. For some reason I thought I had paid my cosmic debts and would be spared further affliction.
I feel bad, and then I feel bad about feeling bad. Plenty of people get this disease- you have it removed and carry on. It's doesn't entail torturous cycles of chemo or radiation. It's very simple. It's the psychological impact that has been hard. I'll get it taken care of next week but that word will will stay in my brain for a lot longer.
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