No, not the furry little creatures that dig up your lawn...but the brown spots that may turn ugly and grow into melanomas. Since my dad was diagnosed with cancer earlier this year, I’ve become a lot more aware of the dreaded disease in all its devious shapes and forms. B has also been nagging me the past couple of years to “get that thing checked out, it’s growing”, referring to a particularly large one that I’ve worn on my neck all my life. There was a time in my youth when I vainly (in all senses of the word) hoped it could be considered a beauty spot à la Cindy Crawford....
Given that my childhood was spent playing barefooted/ faced/legged/armed under a hot African sun... and that my fair skin freckles the moment I step into the sunshine...my GP decided to refer me to a dermatologist. Joy and delight, this meant a trip to our local hospital today, but I did feel a huge sense of relief to be given the all clear from a Mole Guru. It’ll be SPF 50+ from here onwards...
Quick update on my dad:
He started his 12th chemo cycle today and is still going strong....he is an amazingly resilient man. We will know more about his progress after his scan and oncology appointment the week after next.
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