Biggest lesson from cancer - don't put off dermatologist visit

This the last in a three-part series tracking my trip through skin cancer.

I’m happy to report the squamous cell cancer in the bald patch of my head is now gone.

If you’ve been following along here since Christmas you know that after dragging my feet more than I probably should have, I was diagnosed with the skin cancer in early December. I was very fortunate that I was quickly passed off to a second dermatologist in Lubbock who was able to get me in quickly and do the surgery I needed.

I managed to talk my little sister into getting up in the wee hours of the morning to have me in Lubbock by 7:30 a.m. Texas time. That was 3 a.m. for me since I was instructed to wash the surgery site well with this special soap I had to search the town to find.

We got there in the dark and didn’t see anyone stirring until we finally decided we were on the wrong side of the building. I had my paperwork with me and they immediately walked me back to the surgery room. Sister was able to come back, which pleased her greatly because she is a fan of the cable show Dr. Pimple Popper.

Introductions were made and the doctor and his assistant quickly got down to business. She pulled out the clippers and increased the size of my bald spot to start, then cleansed the site with some more stuff and then began sticking me with little tiny needles delivering the local anesthesia. I didn’t even feel them go in she was so good.

It was well numbed when the doctor started carving and after shifting positions a couple of times as he filleted my scalp he soon had what he wanted and I saw him carefully place a three-inch chunk of my scalp into a Petri dish. He then burned off a few blood vessels at which point Sis remarked that my head was smoking. The surgical assistant then patted the blood down a bit and placed a fresh gauze pad atop the spot and I was told it would take a little while as they examined the tissue.

He soon came back and announced he had gotten all the cancer in the first try. As they got ready to stitch me back together the question came up as to whether we wanted to take a photo and of course, yes, my blood-thirsty sibling did want to do that.

After numbing me a little more, the two of them began pulling my scalp together and it felt like it might turn loose down around my ears somewhere. Finally they got things where they wanted them and the assistant held things in place and the doc started stitching. Ten stitches later we took another photo and we were done. He looked me over head to foot and didn’t see anything else he didn’t like except some athlete’s foot.

He gave a quick look at a spot on Sister’s back and we were out of there by 10 a.m.

The photos of the open spot looked a lot like he’d taken a small ice cream scoop to the top of my head. I’m pretty sure I could have balanced a golf ball easily atop my head in the divot.

I was expecting a couple of goes at it but I guess where it was on the top of a pretty ugly head caution because of cosmetic reasons wasn’t called for.

I go back to get the stitches out next week and it was pretty sore for a few days but it hasn’t really bled or oozed much. I was instructed to Vaseline the area up around the house and slap a Band-Aid on when I go out. I use a big square bandage and people have remarked it looks like I’m wearing a Jewish yamaka.

I’m relieved to have the cancer cells gone and I’ve been told I’ll need to have regular six-month checkups from now on. I’ve also promised myself not to forget to apply that sunscreen I have in my tackle box and in every vehicle. Apparently the stuff doesn’t do much good inside the bottle.

My biggest lesson in this whole episode has been not to put off seeing a dermatologist if you have a sore that isn’t healing. I went six months and while the doctor said this cancer wasn’t huge in the scheme of what he sometimes sees, it was certainly time to get it removed.

Karl Terry writes for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him at:

[email protected]