The Good Kind

I adore the sun, I live for the beach, and I am a redhead. As a child, one of the first scents that I recall was Sundown Sun lotion. It was a white bottle with a crude illustration of the setting sun.  I hated that shit, it smelled bad, and it stung when it got in my eyes. My poor mother would spend at least 10 minutes painting me with the white sticky stuff while I complained.

Fast forward several years, the lotion smelled better and I still religiously applied, just not as carefully. One trip to Cancun with my girlfriends I made the mistake of taking a few shots before applying the SPF. I covered my whole body so well…except for my entire right leg.  Do not drink before applying.

I have been going every six months to the dermatologist for a skin check and assistance with adult acne. (thank you 40) Last month, my dermatologist took one look at me, asked me to sit down and quickly biopsied a tiny little bump near the corner of my eye. I tried not to think about it while I awaited the results.  I saw the caller ID flash my doctor’s name and I answered.  The chipper nurse on the other line said she had some news, but I shouldn’t be overly concerned.  I have a basal cell carcinoma, the “good kind” of cancer next to my eye. 

This Wednesday, I will have Mohs surgery followed by reconstructive surgery. I wish I could say, I am taking this in stride, but I am freaking out. I am vain, and this is my face. I am the girl that never got contacts because I can’t touch my eye. I am the girl that has yet to be able to get through a glaucoma test without a full on panic attack. I am the girl that still can’t do eye drops without hyperventilating. I am the lucky girl with the “good kind” of Cancer, and I am scared.