“You’ve got to get out and pray to the sky to appreciate the sunshine; otherwise you’re just a lizard standing there with the sun shining on you.”
– Ken Kesey
I’ve written about my Seasonal Affective Disorder here before.
It’s common knowledge that I worship the sun. I don’t mean that in the cliché overused way that teens worship Zac Efron. I mean, when I do sun salutations in a yoga class, I am seriously bowing and prostrating in grateful praise of the sun’s rejuvenating energy. When bright rays seep out from behind a cloud, I send up a little thank-you mantra. When everyone else escapes into the shade, I stretch out my arms and embrace the heat with religious zeal. Since moving to Laos, my Happy Light has remained stashed in a closet, and that beautiful, blazing, tropical sunshine has kept my spirits soaring.
However, like Job in the Bible, I now find my devotion tested. My beloved sun has sent forth a plague in the form of skin cancer.
During our summer vacation in Michigan, I visited my mom’s dermatologist – in part because he was rumored to be a hottie but also because I had a little mole next to my eye that had morphed a bit. He recommended a biopsy, and sure enough, it turned out to be basal cell carcinoma. Damn.
My mom accompanied me on my second visit to Dr. Stutz. I put her in charge of documenting the procedure (although she may not have been the right person for the job, what with her “essential tremors” and confusion over the iPhone – “Is it a phone or a camera?”). So here we go:
Here’s the little spot a week after the biopsy.
Dr. Stutz shoots up my face with some numbing agent. I encouraged him to use Botox, but he wouldn’t do it.
Then he scrapes out a chunk of flesh and cauterizes it. There’s something a bit nauseating about the smell of your own face burning.
I was relieved to learn that basal cell carcinoma is a slow-growing form of cancer that rarely spreads to other parts of the body. I had to laugh when I heard that redheads are more susceptible. Would it make a difference if the cancer knew my auburn hair comes courtesy of Excellence Creme #6R?
Unfortunately, the best way to prevent skin cancer is to limit exposure to sunlight. I refuse to think about that. It’s rainy season in Laos right now, so the sun poses minimal threat. In a few weeks, I’ll have to come up with a strategy for meeting my daily sunshine quota while protecting my traitorous skin.
I will continue to be vigilant, however, about other mysterious marks on my body, and I encourage you to do the same. Check out the Mayo Clinic’s page about basal cell carcinoma for more information.
Oh, and Dr. Stutz really is a hottie.
