Wednesday, September 3, 2008


Constantly, I'm harping on my husband, my parents, my siblings, my friend (I'm not sure I have more than one) to stay out of the sun, wear exorbitant amounts of sunblock, and to have mysterious moles checked out. Harp. Harp. Harp. Megan the Harpy.

To be an example of practicing what I preach, I went to my dermatologist today for a full-body scan. I showed up to the doctor's office shaking in my boots. I knew said scan would turn into a biopsy. Why? 'Cause I'm me. And that's how things go if you're me. (And I am.)

Sho 'nuf, the very-likable-aside-from-that-whole-I-have-a-scalpel-and-needles-thing derm told me I should make an appointment to have a mole on my abdomen excised for biopsy. Of couse it's one of those no-need-to-worry-we're-just-being-safe moles, but nevertheless, Miss Megan was instructed to speak to the scheduler for an excision.

Yes'm. I muttered, envisioning shiny needles, scapels, and an intubation tube.

Does your schedule permit doing it now? a voice from the corner inquired.

Blast! I forgot about the husband I brought along. For moral support.

It's better if we can get it done today, the traitor confessed.

I knew the evil beast was right. I would fret from the moment the doc mentioned the necessary excision until the actual cutting appointment, whether it was hours or years. He just wanted to save me mental trauma (and save himself from hearing my babyish worries).

So two stitches. I have two stiches in the spot where they excised the mean mole.

Get your sorry selves to the dermatologists to have your skin scanned. I did it. Be responsible and take care of your skin so that your family isn't saddled with the responsibility later.


Just Sue said...

Do I have to?

Holly Anderson said...

Funny thing...I have my own little mole harper sitting right over there- he's been getting on me about the same thing. He's even threatened floss tied to the doornob and SLAM!