Sunscreen, Skin Cancer, & Spiritual Support

Here’s the thing: I always wear sunscreen.

I mean, I ALWAYS wear sunscreen.

I wear sunscreen in the snow, I wear sunscreen on the go, I wear sunscreen in the rain, I wear so much sunscreen it’s insane!.

Sorry, that’s my Dr. Seuss version of the sunscreen saga…which probably shows that I’m losing it a little but seriously, This is a picture of me last July after 10 days in Hawaii:

 Do I look tan? No. You know why?

BECAUSE I ALWAYS WEAR SUNSCREEN!

In fact, I wear so much freaking sunscreen that I literally have a vitamin D deficiency and have to take a supplement every day.

Which is why I find the fact that I have skin cancer more than a little irritating. This is not noticeably helped by the fact that, since I’m not in a life or death melanoma struggle, many people act like I’m being overdramatic.

“It’s only basal cell,” they say. “I’ve had that. It’s no big deal.”

It’s really all I can do not to whip out my phone, call up a few pictures of the horrifying forehead flap procedure (seriously, do NOT Google it!), and scream “REALLY? You’ve had THIS? And you didn’t think it was a BIG DEAL? Because call me a drama queen but I think TURNING THE TOP OF MY FACE INSIDE OUT IS A BIG FREAKING DEAL.”

I think it’s safe to say I’ve been handling this entire skin cancer saga with my trademark stoicism.

Although here's a tip should you ever be diagnosed with the no big deal basal cell carcinoma…if, when you’re getting the original biopsy, before the dermatologist even has your test results confirming that you have the dreaded skin cancer, she suggests that you should not get treatment in your home city but should instead drive an hour and a half to a specialist, it is NOT a good sign.

Furthermore, if your husband offers to take off work and drive the hour and a half to the initial consult with the specialist, you should probably say to yourself, “Self,” you should say. “I suspect there's a reason the dermatologist wants me to go so far away. This is probably going to be a little more than your standard procedure.” And let him come with you.

Because when you get to the specialist and he explains to you that he's going to basically cut off your nose and then do this weird procedure in which he turns the top of your face inside out to fix the missing nose, it is rather disconcerting for your husband to get a call at work in which you are hyperventilating and unable to speak.

It is equally is disconcerting for your mother when, as you think you have yourself under control, you hang up and call her and have hysterics all over again.

Speaking of hysterics, you would think that a plastic surgeon who specializes in the whole face inside out technique mentioned above would be used to people freaking out in his office. I mean, I can’t imagine most people greet this news with jokes and laughter. However, my plastic surgeon seems to think I'm crazy. Apparently, when he—without warning--shoves a video of the inside out procedure into people’s faces, most do not respond by saying “Oh, F*** me!” and showing the iPad away. Most people, according to the young whippersnapper, fifteen year old Dougie Houser doctor,  feel better when they're educated about the procedure.

And, while I have always believed in the power of education, there are some instances when ignorance is, in fact, bliss.

In any case, hour doctor/patient relationship didn’t noticeably improve when he switched tactics and earnestly explained to me that I need to remember that his number one priority is to ensure my nose is reconstructed for maximum breathing potential. “Breathing is the most important thing. It’s number one,” he said. “Appearance is number two.”

When I allowed as how those were equally important issues in my mind, he interrupted me and said “No, no, no!” in a slightly irritated voice. “You have to understand this.  Breathing is one, appearance is two.”

“No, no, no.” I responded in the exact same tone. “You have to understand this: I can already breathe through my mouth.”

Pretty sure neither of us left that conversation feeling really heard.

Anyway, I’ve largely avoided talking about the surgery on my blog but the procedures start Monday so it’s getting to be unavoidable. And I’ll be honest, the next 2 months are going to suck out loud…I have 2 surgeries this week, 1 in April, and, since they just found another spot of skin cancer on my chin, probably a 4^th in May.

I say again, it’s going to suck out loud. And I could definitely use some spiritual support to get through it all. In addition, Opie could use some spiritual support to deal with me as I have not exactly been a ray of sunshine.

So, Catholic friends, we would love it if you could join us in an appeal to St. Peregrine, the patron saint of cancer patients. Muslim, Protestant and Jewish friends, I concede that this could be seen as blasphemous idolatry so would appreciate it if you could look past that and join us in praying for swift healing. Atheist, agnostic, and pagan friends, when you’re done shaking your heads at our superstitious nature, we’d appreciate if you’d send positive thoughts and good energy to strengthen us in the weeks ahead. As I’ve said before, I don’t think we have any Satanist friends but if we do, even though I understand that this surgery could be a great blood sacrifice to your dark lord, maybe you could still sit this one out and, oh, I don’t know, send cookies instead. (I like macarons.)

Anyway, thanks everyone and I’ll keep you updated when I’m up on my feet again.