Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Roly Poly Holy Moley

I have a doctor's appointment coming up on Tuesday. I haven't had a regular old checkup in, oh, well it's been so long I can't even remember. It's no secret... I'm not a big fan of the doctors unless I'm sick. I only take medicine when it's absolutely necessary (or I'm getting a migraine, which if you've ever had one - or been near someone who had one and you realized your life was on the line if you stepped too close - you know that's pretty necessary!). But it's time I guess, and I need one of those well women's exams (which I've been avoiding because the last one I had a few years ago left me feeling like I had been violated and traumatized me so badly I haven't had one since) and I haven't built a relationship with our family doctor yet, so *sigh* off I go.

The main reason I'm going, however, is because I have some moles that are suspicious and scary. I've been avoiding them for years now, but I read an article on melanoma the other day and it got my rear into gear. I have two that have me worried. One HUGE one on my leg and one small one on my belly. The huge one is worrisome just because it's huge and apparently that's bad. The one on my belly is small, but has changed colors (from a nice honey brown to a pale tan/pinkish with a nice honey brown ring on the outside of half of it - just thought you'd enjoy the visual!) and apparently that's really bad.

The huge one on my leg is so huge it has its own freckles. Shoot, it probably has its own zip code. Got mail, mole? I'm thinking it will have to be removed. I'm thinking the small one will definitely be removed, so they can test it and make sure it's not going to kill me. But the big one, even if it isn't cancerous now, I guess is a risk and will probably have to go. I'm a little saddened by this. Huh? Losing a big, ugly mole is sad? Maybe I should back up. I've had this thing for as long as I can remember. Mom says I wasn't born with it, but I got it really soon after I was born. I've always called it my "birth mark" anyway, because, well, it's close enough and "birth mark" sounds SO much better than "ugly mole the size of your rear end". Granny tried to wipe it off of me one day because she thought it was chocolate. *giggle* Too bad she wasn't right! Chocolate is always good, whether it be on the leg or in the mouth. So anyway, I've had this thing forever, and I guess my childhood doctors were never concerned enough about it to remove it. If I could go back in time, and talk to them about it, I'd demand they remove it. It has given me nothing but grief!

I never felt pretty growing up. I was the only stick skinny, short, fair skinned, freckled faced redhead within a 200 mile radius and that combined with crooked teeth (which I still have, btw) and huge glasses (which I DON'T still have, btw) and being the "smart one" in my small private school made me feel like a freak. I was teased and never liked how I looked. The "birth mark" didn't help that at all. Plus, my mom used it as some weird marker to determine how short my shorts could be. If they were too much shorter than the mole, they were a no go! Maybe I should market that idea... "Need to teach your child modesty? Buy them a Texas-sized mole!" Sounds like a solid business plan, no?

So back to the feeling not pretty. The first time I felt even remotely attractive was when I met my first boyfriend, at age 17. Until he dumped me, he made me feel beautiful. I'll never forget him telling me how beautiful I was, (and he SPECIFICALLY mentioned my red hair - which was huge to me since I hated it so much back then) because it was the first time someone confirmed what my parents had been telling me all along - I was indeed pretty no matter how my idiot stuck up "friends" made me feel. It wasn't until we got out of that horrid little town and I went to college that I really started to appreciate how God made me and accept what I had and had not. Including the mole. Now, even though it is still ugly and still huge (and even though I no longer use it to determine the modesty of my clothes *giggle*) it's a part of me and I have learned to accept me, mole and all. So I'm a little sad to see it go. I've come to embrace it and even enjoy it for its uniqueness. The crooked teeth I'd love to change, but the mole? As much as I thought I'd jump at the chance to remove it, I really think I wouldn't mind keeping it... provided it won't kill me. But alas, I'm sure it will be removed. It's too much of a future risk if it isn't dangerous already.

If you'd like to remember me and my mole for our doctor appointment on Tuesday, prayers would be appreciated. The little multi-colored one really has me worried. Plus, I'm not looking forward to having ANY part of me cut off, whether I've come to embrace it or not. lol


1 comment:

Heidi said...

the blogger world unites...I actually have some moles that need to go too. They are scaring me. I just changed doctors so I am waiting till I get my new ID cards to make the appointment.

My biggest fear is how they are going to cut it off and if will I feel it!!!