My massage therapist noticed a spot on my back, told me she thought I might want to get it checked out, I did, and turns out, it’s skin cancer.
Per the doctor, it’s small – eight-tenths of a millimeter – and from the test results, and visual inspection, it doesn’t appear that it has spread beyond the original spot.
This is all thanks to my massage therapist, Edna Hochstetler, who is the MVP of this story, obviously.
The bad person in this story: me, for not making sure, on a consistent basis, that I was properly sunscreened up.
I do a 5K run five to six days a week, which has me out in the sun for 30-35 minutes.
Historically, I don’t burn, so I’ve come to allow myself to be a bit lax on the sunscreen.
I certainly won’t be lax on the sunscreen going forward, and I’m sharing my story to advise you, too, to be smarter than I’ve been.
And also, to listen to whoever it is that might tell you, hey, that spot there, you might want to get that checked out.
I’ll be honest, when my wife looked at it, after I told her about what Edna had said, and took a photo with her phone and showed it to me, I thought it looked like a regular ol’ pimple, no big deal.
It was Crystal who insisted, get it checked out, and set up the appointment.
From what I’ve learned since getting this diagnosis yesterday, skin cancer, unchecked, can spread to the lymph nodes, which is where things can get dicey.
Because mine is small, and doesn’t appear, visually, to have spread, I’m probably lucky on that count.
If Edna hadn’t said something, and Crystal hadn’t insisted, who knows.
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Chris Graham
