Dread

On Friday, I go back to my dermatologist.

Thanks to my (ahem) delicate skin, she keeps me on a pretty short leash – every six months, I’m in her office for a skin scan.

If you haven’t had a full body scan with the dermatologist, then you might not know that they check everywhere. Even places where the sun literally doesn’t shine.

My dermatologist is blessedly fast, with a light touch and a chatty demeanor, which makes it all go by more quickly. But I’m really dreading this trip. Dreading the idea that she might find another basal cell lurking beneath another ordinary looking pimple on my face.

I’m not ready to do this again:

But I’ll be there anyway. With my fingers and toes crossed. Until she looks between them for skin anomalies, that is.

Because you know what’s even worse than that surgery pictured above?

Letting a basal cell run its course like one of these.

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If you actually clicked that last link, you'll understand when I tell you that I had intended to put a real shocker of a photo in this post -- but I couldn't do it. I wanted to show you what happens when you let a basal cell eat away at your skin for years and years untreated. But the pictures that I found -- just like the ones my skin surgeon showed me from her own cases -- made me gag so much that I couldn't look at them long enough to copy and paste into this post.

If you didn't click that last link, then let me just remind you to wear sunscreen, keep your hat on and schedule regular visits with your dermatologist. It's not sexy, but it's a helluva lot better than the alternative.

Photo notes: Bottom left is the spot circled before surgery; center and top left are during surgery; top right is last month after a much-needed makeover, showing where my hair is finally growing back; the rest are the in between stages of stitches and infection. Also, that long white scar in the middle of my forehead is the remains of my first basal cell, which was removed three years ago.
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