- Joined
- Nov 15, 2000
- Messages
- 3,708
Had my annual visit to the dermatologist yesterday. Gotta get two more moles chopped out of my skin. I've had 4 or 5 done to date.
I've lived with the fear of Melanoma since age 16 when I read an article about it in a Saturday Evening Post--thanks Mr. Franklin! Actually, the fear of that has helped make me what I am today, so in a way I am thankful for that article.
There is nothing like the possibility of cancer to wake you up again. It's my yearly dose of mortality reality I guess.
So they'll chop them out sometime soon. Then analyze them to see if they are cancerous. If no, no worries. If yes, then they bring you in to check your whole body to see if it has spread.
Not worth worrying about anyway---worrying won't change a darn thing anyway, it'll just make me miserable.
Death walks with us whether we like it or not. A woman I know who was just diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (the BAD, BAD kind) told me something that I really liked. That life is like a coin: on one side is light and hope and on the other death and despair. We live on the edge between the two. I'd like to think that we can make that coin spin so that it stays on hope and light--even if the worst comes to pass.
Thanks for listening.
Rob
So no smoke needed at this point. Hopefully I won't be back asking for any.
I've lived with the fear of Melanoma since age 16 when I read an article about it in a Saturday Evening Post--thanks Mr. Franklin! Actually, the fear of that has helped make me what I am today, so in a way I am thankful for that article.
There is nothing like the possibility of cancer to wake you up again. It's my yearly dose of mortality reality I guess.
So they'll chop them out sometime soon. Then analyze them to see if they are cancerous. If no, no worries. If yes, then they bring you in to check your whole body to see if it has spread.
Not worth worrying about anyway---worrying won't change a darn thing anyway, it'll just make me miserable.
Death walks with us whether we like it or not. A woman I know who was just diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (the BAD, BAD kind) told me something that I really liked. That life is like a coin: on one side is light and hope and on the other death and despair. We live on the edge between the two. I'd like to think that we can make that coin spin so that it stays on hope and light--even if the worst comes to pass.
Thanks for listening.
Rob
So no smoke needed at this point. Hopefully I won't be back asking for any.