What Would I do Without Thee

My good friend, Death, has come to save me again; and what a coincidence, only twelve days before the dreaded Christmas party and twenty-eight days before the family functions begin.

This time, the manifestation is in the form of skin cancer. I’ve got it in two places; the tiny, brown spot on my left cheek and the mole on the right side of my neck, just above my collarbone.

I actually made a trip to the doctor a couple months ago, convinced I needed emergency surgery for this same reason, after watching a skin cancer feature on CNN. But, as usual, the doctor insisted I was healthy and cancer free, despite my best efforts. (Now, this was the same doctor who made a game out of finding my breast cancer lump, so for all I know she was replaying the last night’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy in her head as she half-assedly checked my moles.)

At any rate, the mole at the base of my neck has been itching like crazy, (per WebMD this is a sure sign of cancer), and I can’t get out of the mirror after self-diagnosing this little brown spot.

I keep imagining that a huge chunk of my left cheek will have to be butchered to save my life and I’ll be walking around like the Hunchback of Notre Dame for the rest of my days.