So this is a pretty personal one, and it’s got nothing to do with fashion for once, but after what’s happened to me in the past few days, I decided that it would be a good thing to share this story with you.
As some of you may know, back in July I went to the dermatologist for a routine check. I’m pale skinned with lots of moles and freckles, so I try to get them checked out once in a while. I don’t tan much or use sunbeds at all.
I had a few moles on my face which I wanted gone, partly because of their constant exposure to the sun, but more for aesthetic reasons than anything else – I’m vain like that. Whilst I was there I showed the doc my back and he pulled a serious face and told me I had a few funny ones on my back he wanted gone. They were all in a spot where I couldn’t see them.
This wasn’t at all what I expected, but I had 2 taken out with a laser and the other one surgically, to have a biopsy done on it. The mere thought that something could be wrong shook me to the core. I cried my eyes out, prayed that everything would be ok.
A week later, we got the results and everything was ok, or so it seemed. I had my birthday party, had a blast, enjoyed the rest of my summer, forgot all about it, except for the annoying scar on my back. Then 2 days ago, I went back to the doc to show him the scar as it was bugging me a bit.
Doc had been on holiday for a few weeks and sat me down and said he was in fact just about to call me. A second biopsy had arrived whilst he was away and showed that it was in fact a malignant melanome after all. Had we not caught this and I’d been running around in my bikini all summer, things could have been slightly different.
I went home again, cried my eyes out once again and pulled myself together and realised how damn lucky I’ve been. This morning I had a second surgery to remove more tissue and now have about 20 stitches, but it was beautifully done by a plastic surgeon, so I hopefully shouldn’t have too big of a scar in the end.
I know I’m the luckiest person ever to have found this during a completely routine check. I had no reason to be worried, but I went anyway and I’ve vowed to have my skin checked out once a year to avoid ever having to be in this situation again. The C-word is too scary to even contemplate at 25 when it can be fully avoided.
Quite frankly, my biggest worry right now is not being able to wear the Erdem dress I especially bought for a wedding tomorrow and not being allowed to dance. And my anasthesia wearing off in a few hours. I know how lucky I was to have caught this in time by going for a routine check and not waiting until it was too late, so I’m going to be fine. I’m really not here to preach and tell you what to do, but this is what happened to me and I have a battle scar to remind me. Perhaps my story might inspire you to check your skin once in a while, even go for a check-up and avoid getting a massive chunk of your skin taken out for no good reason.
Lots and lots of love,