I'm not smiling, because I can't. Think: Mrs. Doubtfire. She can't fully emote because her meringue (uhh, make-up) will come off.
I wish my carac ointment tasted like pie. I wish I could open my mouth that wide. (TWSS)
I am in week 4 of a chemotherapy cream treatment to remove a number of AK's or precancerous cells from my face. I have had 4 Mohs (2-forehead, 1-scalp, 1-collarbone) surgeries to remove full-on squamous cell carcinomas. I am writing about this experience to vent a little, communicate perspective I have gained and to encourage regular use of sunscreen.
The experience. There are many aspects to this.
- applying a cream that can burn layers off your face onto new fresh raw skin every morning. (Cuss, anyone?)
- watching as my face progress to gross
- deal with children in public call me "Creepy"
Kim Cattrall, Sex in the City - did you see that episode?But, In general I have felt like a prisoner of my face for a month.
Here's the rub, pun intended: I was/am not a sun-worshipper. I like a healthy, sun-kissed look and had a couple of Cancun sunburns in college. But I never could sit still long enough to 'work on my tan'. My tan, however did work on me.
I have used sunscreen everyday now for a number of years. You can be sure, it is my mantra from now on; most especially with my children. THE DAMAGE IS REALLY DONE WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG.
Certainly, I haven't been able to stop working, teaching Yoga or running my children (the nanny is in Aruba) so it's been interesting to say the least. BTW, I look good in these photos. It was alot worse, a creepy mess.
Before a Bikram Class, yesterday. The lipstick makes me feel better.
And so... I go to the doctor on Tuesday to see if any yucky spots are left that need surgery. My skin will heal. My children and I have forgotten what I used to look like when they let me come to the bus stop. They like me to stay at the front door for now. It's very, very temporary and a relatively short span of time. Not like real burn victims who undergo months and months of painful treatment. Every time I get called creepy and want to cuss as I apply the medicine I send healing energy to the burn unit 25 miles away where a young boy, a hero who saved his best friend in fire recovers from his burns.
I will be back at the bus stop soon. Smiling because I can.