For f*ck’s sake, Flo!

April 20th, 2006

About six months ago, I noticed a new mole. Well, I thought it was new, but I couldn’t really be sure. I have so many freckles and moles, I can’t track them all. At the time, I remember thinking, “You must be new, ‘cuz I really don’t remember you. But I’ve got my eye on you now, Mister.”

Yes, that’s how I talk to myself. Scary, huh?

Four months later, I noticed a new dark spot on the mole. I promised myself that I’d mention it to my dermatologist during my next office visit. After several cancellations (all on my end), that day was today.

My doctor’s reply: “I don’t like the look of that. It’s probably nothing, but I’ll take a biopsy of it and send it to the lab.” She turned to jot down some notes in my file. “It’ll be quick and easy. It’ll take me longer to fill out the paperwork!”

That was fine by me. It gave me more time to catch up with Keifer Sutherland on the cover of “Rolling Stone” magazine. Now that his chimpmunk cheeks are gone, he looks much more appealing. Hmmmmm…

Sidetracked by the magazine, I didn’t feel much of anything as my doctor poked, cut, then stitched me up. It was very quick and easy, exactly as she said it would be. The funky part was having the nurse apply pressure to my stitches for ten minutes. Ten minutes is a long time to have a stranger — even a compassionate, caring one — touch you. I kinda wish we had a drink first, we would have been much more comfortable!

On my way home, deep in my Keifer fueled fantasy (like you haven’t thought about him, too!), it finally sunk in that I may have cancer. I probably don’t. It’s probably nothing. But it could be something. If it wasn’t a possibility, my doctor would not have taken out a chunk of my chest. If it is, how am I going to tell my Mom?…Oh gawd, my Mom would freak out!

It’s bad enough seeing her get worked up about my rheumathoid arthritis. But cancer — even something as common as skin cancer — I don’t think she could take it…So at that moment, driving through Burbank, I freaked out.

Yes, I freaked out over something that did not and may not happen. I was upset by the thought of my Mom possibly being upset. I cried all the way home.

As I walked up the steps to my apartment, I imagined all the ways my family would react to the news of my possible diagnosis; how they’d deal with yet another family member living with cancer. Just then, I lost my footing and found myself teetering on the back of my foot. In that split second when I wasn’t sure if I would fall backwards or not, I grabbed onto the railing. As I straightened myself and continued walking upstairs, I thought, “Oh for f*ck’s sake, snap out of it! Are you gonna cry all night about how you almost died here, too?”

I hate to admit that it took a scolding from my inner Ms. Crankypants to get me out of my funk.

This thing with my mole is what it is. No amount of worrying/crying/being sick to my stomach will change that. Either I’m sick or I’m not. If I am sick, I’ll deal with it. And if I’m not sick, I’ll celebrate my good fortune, then start taking my vitamins again like nobody’s business!

Adios,
Flo