Choose You Blog

Shortly after the birth of my daughter my sister came from California to visit the baby and I in Virginia. One afternoon, as we stood outside a snow cone shack, she exclaimed, “What is THAT?”

I glanced at the crook of my left arm and stared for a minute at the mole I’d had ever since I could remember. But something was different.

Wrong.

It was black.

“It’s nothing,” I quickly said and tried to change the subject.

“Are you kidding me? That thing looks bizarre! You need to go get it checked it out. Please.”

But I ignored her. Caring for my two month old baby and preparing for a move to another state simply took precedent in my mind. I had no time to see a doctor about my skin. After all, I thought, it is just a mole.

The weeks passed by in a blur as I packed and nursed and packed some more. The world seemed to revolve around by newborn and her care and our upcoming move. But there was a little voice in the back of my head about the mole. I knew that my sister was right and that something was wrong, but every time the worry seeped to the forefront of my mind I brushed it away like a nagging fly.

The move went as well as it could go, and we settled into our home in New York. My sister asked again when I planned to see a doctor about the mole, and I decided it was time.

The dermatologist was kind and gentle and carefully removed the mole for testing. He didn’t act terribly worried or upset, and I took that as a good sign. But a couple of weeks later I found myself sitting in his office again waiting for my lab results. When I walked in alone he recommended that I bring my husband in from the waiting room to be with me when he revealed the news.

Alarm bells rang, loud and clear, in my head.

“You have malignant melanoma. The good news is that we caught it early. Your sister saved your life.”

I came back a couple of weeks later for surgery to completely remove the cancerous tissue.

It was September 11, 2001.

The highways were empty and the skies ominously quiet. The earth had shifted under my feet, but I had no choice but to right myself, gather my daughter in my arms, and do what I had to do to rid my body of its invader.

I’ve been cancer free for ten years.

I’ve learned a few things about skin cancer and life that I’d like to share with you…

1. My sister is pretty darn smart. Really, she saved my life. My doctor mentions this every single time I go for a check up.
2. There is no such thing as a cancer that is “no big deal.” Unfortunately, many people still think of skin cancer this way. Malignant melanoma can be fatal, and we’d all be wise to take it very seriously.
3. Know your body and listen to it. I knew something was wrong, but I put off getting checked out. Pay attention to your moles and freckles from head to toe. If you have several, go to your doctor, and he or she will “map” your body and take photos to help you get to know your skin and notice any changes.
4. Wear your sunscreen and skip the tanning bed. Seriously, it is not worth it.
5. Parents: Putting off self-care, “because I have to focus on the kids,” does not do anyone any good. Your children need a parent who is healthy and able to care for them. If I had put off that trip to the dermatologist any longer, I might not be here today to care for my children.
6. Everyone: Get checked. Do if for yourself and do it for the ones you love and for those who love you. Don’t put your health on the back burner. Nothing is more important than your life.

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About Christine Green: Christine Green is a freelance writer who also runs a personal assistant business in Brockport, NY.  She has been published in Story Bleed (Blog Nosh), Genesee Valley Parent, and has essays in Mother Muse: A Collection of Poetry & Prose Celebrating the Joys & Challenges of Motherhood. She has essays, non-fiction, and fiction pieces forthcoming in the June issue of the literary journal aaduna as well as the book, Motherly Musings, which is scheduled for publication this summer.  She always wears her sunscreen and routinely slathers it on her children, a daughter, 10, and a son, 6.  She blogs at Grown Ups are Like That.