Wear Sunscreen. (And a hat)

So a while ago - and I'll admit it's longer ago than it should have been - I noticed a little weird spot on my scalp that was almost like cradle cap. It would flake up and then disappear for a bit before flaking up again. I said, "I should get that looked at." And that was the end of the matter.

At the start of January, while being bombarded with new insurance cards and all the start of the new coverage year information, I finally found a dermatologist and made an appointment.

Last week, I went in. I figured they'd biopsy it. That's what dermatologists tend to do with things because it's the best way to be safe and know things for sure, right? So I wasn't super worried.

Then yesterday they called and, if I'm honest with myself, it was no surprise that the little spot is basal cell carcinoma. Because of course it is. Now, in the skin cancer world, that's the kind you "want" to get. (Not that you really want any skin cancer, but if you're getting some, that's the easiest one.) My head knows this. My heart is a little less convinced.

I blame the anxiety fully on the fact that the diagnosis ends in the word "cancer" and Mom just died of cancer. Two very different kinds, blah blah blah. Still cancer.

So on Thursday I'll be back to the dermatologist to get it removed and hopefully that will be easy and won't result in them having to shave my head (did I mention it's on my scalp?) And then, again hopefully, we can put this all behind us and I will be one of those hat-wearing people henceforth.

But the dread in my gut is worried that I delayed long enough that it - I don't know, ate through my skull and into my brain. I don't think that's really a thing. But it feels like it could be and if it was going to be a thing, given that my honorary name these days is Murphy, well...

Anyway. Wear sunscreen. And a hat.