I become the patient

I came out of the shower and dried myself with a huge white towel. Something caught my eye. What was that on my back? It was dark, but I couldn't get a good look at it, even with all the mirrors in my bathroom. I'd never noticed it before.

A few days later, I became more worried. Could it be the dreaded melanoma? I had recently seen several patients die of metastatic melanoma in the hospital, and they were terrible, slow, painful deaths. I was rather young for such a thing, and I tend to wear sunscreen and keep out of the sun when I can. But there was still a chance. And if it was the real deal, catching it early was my only hope. If it invades more than 1 millimeter into my skin, my five year survival (the odds that I would live longer than five years) drops off a cliff. I couldn't let this go.

Since I couldn't see it well, I took pictures of it with my digital camera. I saw that it met all the ABCD's of melanoma. It was Asymmetric. Its Border was ragged. It was comprised of two or more different Colors. And its Diameter was greater than a pencil eraser. Shit. This could be bad. Should have used more sunscreen. I suddenly remembered the blistering sunburns of my youth. That time in Saudi Arabia when my skin was peeling right off my back. All those times I went water-skiing without sunscreen. Those blistering sunburn drastically increase your odds of skin cancer.

So I went to the Dermatology department to try to make an appointment. They asked to see my insurance card. Then they told me that the first available appointment was in late November. Really? I'm supposed to wait more than two months with a time bomb on my back?

That afternoon, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I would not wait that long if I could help it. I left the pediatric neurology clinic in which I was working, and headed towards the derm clinic. I tracked down the doctor I was after, and introduced myself. "Hi Dr. B! I'm me. You worked with my dad a while back. I have this thing on my back, and I think it might be a melanoma."

He was so nice. He immediately took me into a room so he could look at it. He thought it was suspicious, so a few minutes later, he took a biopsy of it. He asked for my pager number so he could give me the results as soon as he read the slides (he's also a dermatopathologist). Now I have quite a few stitches in my back, but at least I know that I, and the little piece of my back, are in good hands.