Skin Cancer: The Day Everything Got Real
I never thought I’d be writing this.
Skin cancer? Me? Nope, not me. I wear sunscreen sometimes, I don’t even tan that often, and besides, I’m not the “type,” right?
That’s what I used to think — right up until a tiny spot on my shoulder decided to change my life.
It started small. Just this little brown dot that looked a bit darker than usual. I remember scratching it one morning while pulling on my hoodie and thinking, weird, why did that hurt? Then it bled. Not much, just a tiny bit. I shrugged it off. I was busy. Who goes to the doctor for a dot?
But it didn’t heal. It just sat there, being weird, and every time I looked in the mirror, it stared back like it knew something I didn’t.
The Day I Finally Went to the Dermatologist
It took me months — I’m embarrassed to admit that now. Between work, errands, and everything else, I kept pushing it down the list. “Next week,” I told myself. “After payday.” You know how it goes.
When I finally booked the appointment, it felt… silly. Like I was overreacting. But the dermatologist took one look and said, “Hmm, let’s do a quick biopsy.”
If you’ve ever had one, you know the drill: numb the area, tiny scalpel, done in two minutes. I left with a bandage and zero worry.
Then came the call.
The nurse’s voice was calm but careful. “We got your results back. It’s basal cell carcinoma. The good news—it’s treatable and we caught it early.”
And just like that, time slowed.
Cancer. That word hit like a freight train.
I sat on my couch, staring at the wall, trying to figure out how I went from “probably nothing” to “you have skin cancer.”
The Surgery — And The Emotional Mess That Followed
They scheduled Mohs surgery for me two weeks later. The night before, I couldn’t sleep. I kept Googling success rates, scars, survival stories. (By the way, don’t do that. The internet is not your friend at 2 a.m.)
The procedure itself wasn’t bad. I remember lying there, the sterile smell of disinfectant sharp in my nose, the doctor chatting about weekend plans while slicing away layers of my skin. They check each one under a microscope until they’re sure they got it all.
When it was done, I had stitches running across my shoulder like a crooked zipper. I stared at it in the mirror that night and felt… disconnected. Like it wasn’t even my body anymore.
And then came the weirdest part: I started to resent the sun.
I’d step outside and flinch like it was out to get me. Every freckle became suspicious. Every tan line felt like a threat.
It’s hard to explain that mix of fear and frustration unless you’ve been there. One moment you’re grateful to be alive, the next you’re crying in the shower because you don’t feel “normal” anymore.
What I Learned (The Hard Way)
If I could go back, I’d tell my old self so many things. But here’s what I know now — stuff I wish someone had drilled into me years ago.
1. Sunscreen Isn’t a Suggestion
It’s not just for beach days. Or summer. Or pale people. It’s every day, every season, every skin tone.
Get a broad-spectrum SPF 30+ and make it as routine as brushing your teeth. I’ve got one bottle in my car, one by my keys, one next to my coffee maker.
2. That “Weird Little Spot” Deserves Attention
Don’t wait for something to look really bad. Mine didn’t. It wasn’t huge or painful or ugly. It was just… different.
If you notice anything that feels off — a mole that changes, a freckle that bleeds, a bump that won’t heal — get it checked. You’re not overreacting. You’re protecting yourself.
3. Healing Isn’t Just Physical
My shoulder healed fast. My brain didn’t.
I’d wake up some mornings and feel fine, then catch sight of my scar and just spiral. It took therapy and a whole lot of journaling to find peace with it.
Now I see that scar as a reminder — not of sickness, but of survival.
4. The Sun Isn’t Evil, But It’s Not Harmless Either
I still love the outdoors. I still hike, still sit on patios, still chase sunsets.
But now I do it smarter — long sleeves, wide hats, mineral sunscreen, shade breaks.
It’s not about fear. It’s about respect.
How To Check Yourself (Like, Actually Do It)
Here’s what my dermatologist drilled into me: the ABCDE rule. Simple but life-saving.
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A — Asymmetry: One half doesn’t look like the other.
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B — Border: Ragged, uneven edges.
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C — Color: More than one shade, or weird dark spots.
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D — Diameter: Larger than a pencil eraser.
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E — Evolving: It’s changing — in shape, color, or size.
Take photos every few months in the same lighting. Seriously, your camera can save your life. That’s how I noticed my mole was changing.
Everyday Stuff I Do Now (That Old Me Would’ve Laughed At)
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I wear SPF 50 even when it’s cloudy.
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I bring a floppy hat to every picnic.
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I sit under umbrellas like a grandma and proudly call it “self-care.”
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I see my dermatologist twice a year — religiously.
People tease me sometimes (“You afraid of a little sun?”), but you know what? I’ll take the jokes over another surgery any day.
FAQs (Because Everyone Asks These)
1. Can skin cancer really happen to anyone?
Yup. Any skin tone, any age, any gender. The sun doesn’t discriminate.
2. Does sunscreen actually make that big a difference?
Yes. Studies show it can cut your risk by over 40%. That’s not marketing — that’s science.
3. Can it come back?
It can, which is why follow-ups are a must. I do mine every six months.
4. What’s the “good kind” of skin cancer?
None. There’s no “good” cancer. There are just ones that are easier to treat if caught early.
My Honest Takeaway
Getting that diagnosis changed me. Not in the dramatic “life is short” kind of way — more like a quiet shift.
I notice small things now. The warmth of sunlight feels different. My morning routine feels sacred. I don’t rush through sunscreen anymore; I take a second, breathe, and whisper a small “thank you” for another day.
If you’ve got that gut feeling about a mole, or if this story made you think of one on your arm or leg — please, go get it checked.
It’s a small thing that could literally save your life.
And if you’ve already been through it, if you’ve got scars like mine — I see you. You’re not broken. You’re proof that awareness works.
So yeah… this is me. A person who used to forget sunscreen and learned the hard way.
Now, I don’t go anywhere without it — and I don’t take the sun for granted anymore.
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