Pigment

Yesterday I was inspecting my incredibly ugly scars from different mole removals before I got into my shower and I noticed pigment in the scar of a mole that was removed last September, or whenever my last dermatologist appointment was.

I was freaked out when I saw this.

You see the last time I had pigment in a scar they sutured me for a second time on my right shoulder. This mole was also on the right shoulder. I didn’t know if the tests had shown it was precancerous or not because if they think they’ve removed all the cells they don’t call you and let you know, they just wait till your next appointment.

So while I took my shower I wondered what the heck I was gonna do if they had to suture and I knew they were going to need to suture me because 4 out of the 5 moles I knew the results to were precancerous, and so this mole, statistically, probably was too.

I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it sooner.

Sure it was on my back and I don’t normally do body inspections, plus when Jon sees enough skin to see my scars he’s not thinking about my scars, let alone inspecting them.

I was just upset that I hadn’t looked at it sooner. If I had it could have been sutured while Jon was on vacation over the last two holiday weeks, where as now he was back to his regular meeting attending schedule and to take even a week off would be difficult. I’d have to deal with my aching, healing shoulder, needy kids, and messy house all alone, and he’d have to do double duty for a couple weeks until I could even bend over to put or take dishes out of the dishwasher.

This sucked.

I took a little longer shower than I normally do as I tried try to let my mind settle on the thought of another surgery.

I remembered the pulling of my skin as the doctor put stitches in my shoulder and the piercing pain like needles being pushed deep within my shoulder when I did too much. Feeling like needles are in your shoulder I guess is a natural affect of having layers of skin and tissue removed.

I also envisioned my scarred body as I got yet another long scar in my right shoulder.

I was becoming a regular cross stitch, just with ugly results, not beautiful pictures.

I knew I needed to call my doctor’s office to confirm my suspicions, but once out of the hot shower I dried off and put my robe on and the first thing I did was instant message Jon. Instant messaging is how I keep in touch with him throughout the day, or whenever we need to talk.

“I just noticed pigment in a mole Dr. Betten removed in September. I’m going to call to see if it was precancerous and if it was she’ll have to suture it, if it wasn’t precancerous I imagine it won’t matter.”

I sent the message and then called my doctor’s office.

I dialed the number and waited.

“Dr. Betten’s office, will you please hold?”

“Yes.”

I listened to the sunny hits being played on the other end of the line, somewhat mocking my depressed mood.

“Hello, this is Tammy, how can I help you?”

I rattled off my situation as quickly as possible, not wanting to take too much time, but also wanting to get the information I needed as soon as possible.

“Hi, um, I’m a patient of Dr. Betten’s and I just noticed pigment in a mole she removed the last time I saw her. My name’s Lacey Blake. The last time this happened the mole had been precancerous and needed to be sutured so I was wondering if you could look at the results and see if it was precancerous and if I needed to come in sooner than my March appointment?”

“OK, let me get your file. Hold one minute.”

onto the night
Hold onto the memories
I wish that I could give you something more
and I could

“Hi Lacey, the tests turned out just fine.”

“The test from my last appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“On my right shoulder? It wasn’t precancerous?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t precancerous, you don’t need to come in.”

Huge burden lifted from my shoulders.

“Great! Thank you so much.”

Jon finally replies to my instant message.

“Sorry, I just noticed your IM. If you call, can you make my appointment, pretty please. Check my calendar, but mornings are usually safe.”

“I just hung up.”

“Darn.”

Just a short note:

I’m thinking of writing a personal memoir of my experiences with my mole removal and scars, coming to terms with a body I don’t always like and hopefully learning that being cut and tested piece by piece is a good thing in the long term.

It’s also to help me improve on my writing skills.

This is more of a personal post about what my morning was like yesterday, but I think it will be very similar to the style of writing I want to practice; drama with comic relief and then possibly some posts with comedy and dramatic relief, though I think writing comically will be a stretch for me.

It’s probably going to be more of a memoir for me, but I may post it, or the chapters on my blog, or make a separate blog, or keep it to myself. I haven’t decided yet.

Was this interesting to you at all or am I just a narcissus?

What would you improve upon writing wise?

4 Responses to “Pigment”

  1. nice niece Says:

    I like your idea of posting your experiences. This post was very well written, I love how you described the scene around you while you were feeling these emotions. Great job! ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Carolyn Says:

    I like that you posted it.

    I am deathly scared of getting tested & receiving a scar from it. I have so many scars of my “dare-devil” youth and to add to them with scars from a test to see what sickness I have makes my fell off a bike five times on the same knee scare, was running from my brother scare on the forehead and the great I don’t know how I cut my chin, but I did it twice scar seem less of a feet. Then I have two scares on my stomach from when they checked my ovaries sounds so grown up and scary. I don’t want to be a grown up.

  3. Anna Says:

    I agree with nice niece, you’re a great writer and you transport your readers into the situation beautifully.

    I’m glad everything turned out okay.

  4. Jonathan Blake Says:

    Your IM didn’t convey your state of mind to me. More emoticons would have been helpful. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    I enjoyed reading your story. The fact that I had a cameo doesn’t hurt. I think you’re growing as a writer. Set the wayback machine to September 2, 2005 and check out your first post.