Celebrity Skin

When Celebrities speak, people listen.  Regardless if it’s crazy rants a’la Mel Gibson or if it’s glimpses into their private lives via Twitter.  They have a lot riding on what they say or don’t say and what they do or don’t do.  Some celebrities like to stay private with their personal matters, some choose to go public because - come on, in all reality it will more than likely end up public at one point or another. One recent announcement was that Angelia Jolie decided to pursue a double mastectomy solely based on preventative measures to avoid breast cancer.  I personally think it was amazing that she told her story; I hope that it can help other women faced with the same decision.

Another recent public announcement was from Steve Perry – the former front man of Journey.  He had a mole removed on his face that he's had for years and it came back as Melanoma.  He just came out last week, and I am so glad he did.  Although, I don’t think it would be an easy task attempting to hide it because the scar on his face is fairly large and visually unavoidable at the moment, but it’s out in the open.  Here are a few other club members that opened up their story to the public and some are doing (or did) huge things with that news. 

Troy Aikman had a positive mole on his shoulder and hasn’t had any issues at all.  It was caught super early, as in insitu - just in the first layer of skin, and calls himself “fortunate”…because he is. 

Dino De Laurentiis, brother of Chef Giada De Laurentiis, was diagnosed at age 29 and passed within a short 9 months.  Giada is using her celebrity voice and has done a PSA on Melanoma.

Bob Marley, I’ve mentioned him before, the disease metastasized and spread to his brain which lead to his passing in 1981 at the age of 36.

Senator John McCain has had a few positive moles removed from his body and subsequently underwent the surgery to remove ALL of the lymph nodes in neck region from a positive biopsy on his temple.  That particular surgery left him with his left cheek being ‘puffier’ than his right.  He’s joked that he "has more scars than Frankenstein”.   

Burgess Meredith played Mickey in “Rocky” and the lively father of Jack Lemmon in “Grumpy Old Men”.  He passed in 1997 from complications from Melanoma and Alzheimer's.

Maureen Reagan, Ronald Reagan’s daughter, passed in 2001 also after it spread to her brain during her 5 year battle. 

Cybill Shepherd had a scaly patch removed from her back in 2002 and has not had any further complications from diagnosis.

Shonda Shilling, Kurt Shilling’s spouse, was diagnosed and started the SHADE Foundation of America.  This foundation helps educate children and even assists with putting up shaded areas in school and park playgrounds.
 

All of these celebrities have made their diagnosis known.  We've got famous people in our "Melanoma Roar"!  When a celebrity is diagnosed with something that people don't know about, it tends to perk up curiosity and peeps look it up to find out what the heck it is.  With Melanoma, you wouldn't know much about it unless you, a family member or friend was diagnosed. It just doesn't have the same "word power" as other cancers...and of course, it's just skin cancer. 

Scar-y Spice

Luckily it’s starting to get warm because I want my scars to be seen.  I don’t know if that’s normal - you’d think that most people that have surgery or anything else that leaves them with scars wants them covered.  Not me.  I guess I am weird like that.  As soon as the tape was off I wanted them out in the open.  I don’t do it too often at work as I also tend to cover my tattoos, but the weekends are a free for all.

I wear halter tops, tank tops, strapless maxi dresses, really anything that will expose my back (and hopefully my pitter, too).  I’ve even resorted to cutting up shirts - or “altering” them as I say.  They were t-shirts reborn into tank tops.  And I like them that much better.  Now they have a little more personality and they also show off my scars in all the right ways.

I guess my hope is that someone will ask.  But, lets face it - the only people that will have the balls to ask me what the scars are from are children.  Children and maybe the elderly.  Oh, we can’t forget drunk people.  Yes, children, the elderly and drunks.  Hmmm….I wonder where they would all be in one place?  I think my best bet would be convalescent home on Christmas Eve.   Families coming to visit nanna on a holiday bringing her favorite festive drink - egg nog, with brandy - to which ‘drunk uncle’ will pour himself a few more than everyone else.  Would that happen?  Possibly.  Would I be there?  Possibly not.

Regardless if someone or no one asks, I’m embracing the shit out my scars; I think they add a little pirate pizzazz…I actually kind of dig the way they look.  I’m stoked that I feel this way because do you know how much of a bummer that would be if I hated them?  That would suck.

The hubs actually brought up a point today - What do you expect to accomplish with the people that don't ask?  I don't know.  Honestly, I don't know.  He said that maybe I should have a sign or something saying "Curious?  Just ask!"  I thought that was a really good idea, but not sure if I'd actually follow through with it.  You would assume that someone fully exposing their scars, even wearing a shirt that was obviously cut, wouldn't mind being asked - but of course, it's "rude" to ask what the nature of our scars are.  Maybe I do need a button or something silly like that; I'd absolutely love to talk to strangers about them :)

The joys of follow up appointments

I’ve got to get used to awkward moments.  These follow up dermatologist appointments are completely embarrassing.  Everything from the terrible lighting in the office, the hideous paper gowns and we can’t fail to mention that someone scopes you out EVERYWHERE.  And I mean everywhere.  Luckily I remembered to bring big girl panties to wear over my barely there chonies more commonly known as thong-tha-thong-tha-thongs (Ahhh, only Sisqo could make a song about underwear popular).

I don’t even know why I thought that the boy shorts would “protect” me.  I suppose they did a little protection in the front, but definitely not the back.  He straight up pulled those bad boys down and checked out my bum.  Awkward!  He didn’t do that with my bra, which made my girls feel slightly insecure.  Ha!  Just kidding.  I was stoked that I didn’t have to suffer through two separate humiliating incidences.  I’ve thought of changing to a female doctor, but it’s kind of pointless since now I'm so freaking close to Dr. Dermatologist.  That’s the same way I feel about my lady-parts doctor; there’s no point in finding another one because she knows me VERY well. 

The visit itself is a head-to-toe check, or should I say "toe-to-head"?  You get undressed, put on one of those silly paper gowns and lie down on your back.  He starts at the feet, looks in between your toes and looks at your toe nails (remember – Melanoma can show up on the beds of your toenails).  Then he works his way up your legs all the way up to your neck.  Then you flip over to your stomach with your silly paper gown totally open in the back, which this is the exact moment I was thankful for the big-girl panties.  He again starts at the feet working his way all the way to your neck, stopping by your bum for a quick cheek check.  Finally, you sit up, he looks at your hands and fingernails then he dives straight into your hair.  Note to self: next time do NOT wear your hair up again because you’ll have to take it down and go to work with a jacked up fro. 

He actually spent the most time during the visit looking at a mole that I have on the base of my scalp while swimming through my hair.  Made me nervous because I can’t see it!  Now that I wrote that, that’s probably the issue he was having – he couldn’t see the damn thing either.  Humm….  The second most amount of time was spent checking out the moles around my incision on my back.  Everything is good to go, he has no concerns at this time.  I’ve got another three months to go before surrendering to another round of physical shame.  Joy.