Bloggin' ain't easy: Love The Skin You're In

A few years ago my friend lost her husband to Melanoma. Driving home from his funeral, I remember looking down at my hands, my fair skin, and thinking, "Maybe I should get checked out." At that moment, I made a decision that I was going to take better care of myself, and I scheduled an appointment with a dermatologist shortly afterward.

I've been going annually to the dermatologist for 3 years now. I have a couple of spots that I'm supposed to keep an eye on, and I had a suspicious mole removed from the bottom of my foot about 2 years ago. (It ended up being nothing).

But this year's dermatologist visit had a "surprise" for me. Days before my appointment, I scratched a mole and it started to bleed. And I knew. I knew right then that I had a problem.

And I was right. My doctor inspected the mole closely with her tiny magnifying glass and stated that she needed to do an "immediate extraction" instead of scheduling the usual follow up visit. She assured me that it was "probably" nothing, but I knew better. A few days later I got the call, "Hi Susannah, this is Jen from... the mole we removed was cancerous and we need to do a follow up extraction as soon as possible. What you have is basal cell carcinoma and the recovery rate is 99%. We caught it very early, so please don't panic."

Of course, I immediately started to cry. I thanked God that it wasn't Melanoma and that I made a choice a few years ago to keep an eye on myself. Basal cell carcinoma is typically not life threatening but if left untreated can cause serious problems. And if it hadn't been for my friend, I'm not sure I would have ever even scheduled that first appointment.

Now I wish I could go back in time. I wish I hadn't tanned at Lori Jo's or been sun burned over and over again at Cedar Point. I wish I had put on sunscreen on the boat in Lake Cumberland.

But what I wish the most is that I had been comfortable in my own skin. My fair skin that burns in May when the sun first comes out. My fair skin that's covered in freckles. Up until a few years ago, I have always been self conscious. I hate the whiteness of my legs when I wear shorts. I hate the way my face freckles instead of tans. I used to think, "Well, Nicole Kidman has fair skin and people still think she's beautiful." Because honestly, I never felt beautiful in my own skin. I have always, for as long as I can remember, wanted to be tan.

And now, here I am, 29 years old (cough, cough, 32, cough cough) and paying the price of a lifetime of self consciousness.

And these stitches really hurt today and they are super itchy. I'd like to think that I'm not a wimp, but I am. Even though I've had 3 c-sections and a blood clot removal, I'm still a wimp. I don't like physical pain. This little procedure hurts and because of its location on my ribcage, I couldn't even pick up my baby last night. I'm enduring this pain now because I wanted to be tan.

I'm sharing this not because I want anyone to feel sorry for me or because I'm throwing myself a pity party. We never know how our story is going to impact the lives of others. We never know who's watching, who is looking to us to be an example. It could be a neighbor, a friend or even a stranger. Be a better you and maybe you can change a life. Oh, and love the skin you're in :)

Here are a couple of pictures of the procedure.