This is the time of year when I start wearing sunblock every time I go out the door. I should wear sunblock year-round & someday I will have to. But I hate sunblock. I hate the way it feels. I hate trying to wash it off. The stuff I use feels & smells like oatmeal. I hate it.
But I hate what might happen if I don't put on sunblock, more.
I've never really wanted to talk about this. Maybe I was ashamed. (That's stupid. I shouldn't be.) Maybe I thought if I said nothing, it wouldn't really be happening. (Oh, it's happening, all right.) Maybe I just hate getting the doe eyes from people.
It doesn't matter. I still, after all this time & all of the warnings, see lots of people doing some incredibly stupid things, proudly, & besides, I've let the cat out of the bag elsewhere. So here goes. It's too late to stop now.
In 1998, I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma & basal-cell carcinoma. I'm told that basal-cell carcinoma isn't such a big deal, but melanoma is a very big deal. I've also been told that it is unusual to have both. Lucky me.
The melanoma returned in 2001 & again in 2011 (& again in 2014 - see Update #2, below).
How did this happen? Who knows. Too many sunburns to the point of blisters when I was a kid. Too often thinking peeling was cool. We didn't know any better. Maybe none of those things. Maybe nothing at all.
The melanoma returned in 2001 & again in 2011 (& again in 2014 - see Update #2, below).
How did this happen? Who knows. Too many sunburns to the point of blisters when I was a kid. Too often thinking peeling was cool. We didn't know any better. Maybe none of those things. Maybe nothing at all.
Oh well.
So far, I have been lucky. No chemo, no radiation, no hospitals. I go to a dermatologist everyfour three months. More often than not, he will take a sample from a spot that he doesn't like & send it out for biopsy. Most of the time, it comes back benign. Sometimes, it doesn't & he has to carve a larger chunk out of me.
By far, the worst of this has been repeatedly fighting with my insurance company:
-No, that was not cosmetic surgery & no, I don't care if that stuff is also wrinkle cream. I have cancer.
-I dunno. The only mail of mine that the Post Office manages to lose are the claims I mail to you.
-Funny. The claim I'm holding in my hands is perfectly legible. Maybe it's your scanner. (I get that one a lot.)
-No, that is not a duplicate claim. He really did two biopsies on me in one appointment. Would you like to see the scars? (I get that one even more.)
-Did I mention that this is a cancer patient that you're dicking around with?
I feel fine. I am fine. I'm doing what I gotta do, as best I can. I put on the sunblock. Sometimes Jane has to yell at me before I do it & she shouldn't have to do that. I wear hats. I expect to live a long goddamned time. I wish there were more shade along the Hudson, where I do most of my running. But no matter how much I sweat, the oatmeal doesn't budge, so there's that.
The last thing I want or need is for people to worry or think differently about me. If you thought I was an asshole before you read this, then I'm still an asshole.
I am OK.
As you might imagine, I hate beyond measure ever saying 'I am so glad today is over.' I am never glad that today is over.
One more thing. I generally don't hassle people about their sun worship. Maybe I should, but I know that negative reinforcement doesn't work, at best I'll get ignored & I'll just end up angry & frustrated. There are enough sources of anger & frustration in my life as it is; I don't need more. But I'll say it, just this once, while I have your attention: Please. I'm begging you. Wear sunblock. Stay out of the sun. Wear a hat. You don't look better with a tan & if you're luckier than I am, all it will do is make you look old too soon. But it could kill you. Sunburn is not funny, & your jokes about sunburn are truly not funny. Go fuck yourself if you think they are.
Thank you.
Update #1, 12 May: My cousin had a basal cell carcinoma removed today. He urges everybody to use sunblock & no, he does not intend to use any himself.
Update #2, 19 November: I've been diagnosed positive again. I had to go back for that larger carving today. Normally I do what I gotta do & otherwise just live my life, but, on days like this, when I see it in print, it isn't easy...& yes, the insurance company has already rejected my claim, twice. So. When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. I bought a banjo.
So far, I have been lucky. No chemo, no radiation, no hospitals. I go to a dermatologist every
By far, the worst of this has been repeatedly fighting with my insurance company:
-No, that was not cosmetic surgery & no, I don't care if that stuff is also wrinkle cream. I have cancer.
-I dunno. The only mail of mine that the Post Office manages to lose are the claims I mail to you.
-Funny. The claim I'm holding in my hands is perfectly legible. Maybe it's your scanner. (I get that one a lot.)
-No, that is not a duplicate claim. He really did two biopsies on me in one appointment. Would you like to see the scars? (I get that one even more.)
-Did I mention that this is a cancer patient that you're dicking around with?
I feel fine. I am fine. I'm doing what I gotta do, as best I can. I put on the sunblock. Sometimes Jane has to yell at me before I do it & she shouldn't have to do that. I wear hats. I expect to live a long goddamned time. I wish there were more shade along the Hudson, where I do most of my running. But no matter how much I sweat, the oatmeal doesn't budge, so there's that.
The last thing I want or need is for people to worry or think differently about me. If you thought I was an asshole before you read this, then I'm still an asshole.
I am OK.
As you might imagine, I hate beyond measure ever saying 'I am so glad today is over.' I am never glad that today is over.
One more thing. I generally don't hassle people about their sun worship. Maybe I should, but I know that negative reinforcement doesn't work, at best I'll get ignored & I'll just end up angry & frustrated. There are enough sources of anger & frustration in my life as it is; I don't need more. But I'll say it, just this once, while I have your attention: Please. I'm begging you. Wear sunblock. Stay out of the sun. Wear a hat. You don't look better with a tan & if you're luckier than I am, all it will do is make you look old too soon. But it could kill you. Sunburn is not funny, & your jokes about sunburn are truly not funny. Go fuck yourself if you think they are.
Thank you.
Update #1, 12 May: My cousin had a basal cell carcinoma removed today. He urges everybody to use sunblock & no, he does not intend to use any himself.
Update #2, 19 November: I've been diagnosed positive again. I had to go back for that larger carving today. Normally I do what I gotta do & otherwise just live my life, but, on days like this, when I see it in print, it isn't easy...& yes, the insurance company has already rejected my claim, twice. So. When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. I bought a banjo.
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