Skip to main content

Oh poop, I have skin cancer






Shit, I have skin cancer.
On my face, and on my ear.
I spent an hour today with a dermatologist who burned and froze various portions of my face and took a chunk out of my right ear.
The doctor was nice. She said, "Well, if it's any consolation, if you're going to get cancer, this is the best one to get."
With that she lopped off an unsightly bump on my chin.
"At least you won't die from it."
Lovely.
People might say we the skin cancer people have only ourselves to blame.
We've spent too many hours in the sun playing tennis and golfing without the benefit of hats or sunscreen. Of course, we didn't know about sunscreen when we pinkos were lathering ourselves with baby oil back in the day.
And we scoffed at it when the news came out that walking on sunshine could kill you.
Me, I've stayed out of the sun, for the most part, for about five years and put sticky stuff on my heaving bodice. I don't go south and I do what the experts suggest and only come out with the vampires.
I still got skin cancer.
It's infuriating because I have been to at least four doctors, including a specialist in the last few years, and asked about my ear and the spot beside my nose. Dr. Ben, the worst family doctor in Ontario, told me four years ago not to worry. The skin that was peeling off my ear was from a bed sore, from sleeping on a hard pillow. Now I realize why Dr. Ben left Ontario -- to avoid malpractice suits.
But the other doctors were just as bad.
Not a one sent me to a dermatologist.
And so I've been living with skin cancer for years.
They're probably going to have to lop off half my ear, and I'll finally become a true artist like Van Gogh.
I guess I'll have to learn to love hats, and long sleeves.
Go skinny dipping at night at the cottage.
Of course, it could be worse.
I could be Jennette or my other friend Frankie who both had oral cancer.
Or yet another of my other friends who have cancer in their innards.
I suppose it's a rite of passage.
Turn 60.
Get cancer, and hope it's the curable kind.
Now I'm part of a club nobody wants to join.
Lucky, lucky me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ashley Simpson: Don't Let Her Die in Vain

  Six years ago, I was combing through my Facebook and I saw post from my cousin Julie Major. Her brother and his wife were frantically looking for their daughter Ashley who just days before had Facetimed her mom saying she was planning to return to her home in Niagara. Ashley never made it home. She was murdered in cold blood in her home in Salmon Arm then buried in a nearby field. It would be five and a half years before her body was located, and her boyfriend was charged with second degree murder.  Today, Ashley's urn has a sacred spot in her parents' home, and Derek Favell is in jail awaiting trial by judge and jury. The trial is expected to go into next year sometime. This has been an agonizing journey for Ashley's friends and family. The pain has never stopped, and the wounds are broken open every time the family has to sit through a series of pre-trial proceedings. Fortunately, this ordeal will end but the pain will never wane for the people, including me, who have b...

Ashley Simpson: A Father Remembers

I have asked Ashley Simpson's family and friends to give us a glimpse into the life she lived before going missing nearly a month ago. Here is how her father John remembers his sweet girl. Ashley was a treat when she came into this world, a smashing 9lbs 8 ounces with a  head full of hair and nails that needed to be clipped. She has made many friends in her journey of life and continues to make them as we speak. She has made this world a better place by her love of mankind and this place we call Earth; unfortunately this life she has lived hasn't been the best for her. She has suffered through unbearable pain and suffering through her menstrual cycles. She has cysts on her ovaries that make those 10 days a living hell. She had one of her ovaries removed when she was just 14; the other they won't take out till she is 40 or older. Years of hell for my Ashley. I so feel her pain every month but she doesn't quit, doesn't give in.   That'...

What Bell isn't telling you about Fibe TV

Update: This week, we switched back to Rogers after spending far too long using Bell's crappy television service. For those with Bell, read and weep. For those considering Bell, think twice even if you hate Rogers. RS I've always been an early technology adapter. I had a Betamax. That tells you everything (if you're over 50 at least). My first computer was a "Portable". It weighed 40 pounds and I had to lug it around town on a gurney. I've been through probably 15 computers in my lifetime. Apple is the best. It's also too expensive so I have a piece of shit HP, the one I'm writing this blog on. I've had cable, internet and now Netflix. American Netflix . That's how far ahead of the curve I am. I get all the newspapers for free. How? I disabled my cookies so they can't track me when I'm on the newspaper sites. Even the New York Times hasn't cottoned on to that trick. Hahaha. That will be a fifty buck consulting fee. Bein...