Back story: A month ago, a mole I have on my elbow began itching terribly but after asking my mother about it (she works in the medical industry), she told me there wasn’t anything to worry about so I left it at that. But last week, I noticed the same mole had a layer of scab over it and there was a lot of redness surrounding the area. I googled this up like any techy young adult would do and Dr Google diagnosed my symptoms as that of melanoma, a form of skin cancer. Ensue crazy panic attacks and general freaking out.
My puzzling skin condition has been solved after leaving two doctors bewildered by my irrational mole (yes, I did just call it that – irrational). I was referred to the Skin Cancer Foundation for a thorough diagnosis, and what they actually mean by ‘thorough’ is a 5 minute chat with the doctor about the mole on my elbow and some careful prodding with that weird magnifying glass you often spy on a doctor’s desk. I was expecting to see more complex equipment to be frank: glasses with an endless number of magnifying lenses that you can slide in and out, one that would allow you to see the party of ruptured cells on my elbow. Maybe the magnifying glass dermatologists get are 10x more powerful than the standard issue.
The doctor tells me he doesn’t think it’s melanoma since my ethnicity, medical history and staggering ability to stay out of the sun makes it nearly damn impossible otherwise. I’m feeling kinda relieved at this point but mostly I am thinking, “Damn doctor, you’re pretty cute”. Kayz Ilyana, keep your hormones in check.
We decide together that it’s probably a layer of eczema* that’s just happened to cover my mole, no more but wicked chance. My doctor gives the head of the clinic a call, a Professor Robin Marks, and I’m thankful another woman would be in the consulting room because I need a distraction from Le Smoking Hot Asian Doctor. Of course, Professor Robin Marks turns out to be an eccentric old man who walks with a slight limp and carries an actual Sherlock Holmes type magnifying glass wherever he goes. I didn’t know what to think. He whips out his magnifying glass and holds them over my hands – “My goodness you have gold on your nails!”
I like him already.
Why my nails looked so frickin’ amazing yesterday:
Chanel Varnish in Peridot. THE NEBULA IN A BOTTLE! Twas a birthday present from Catherine, she spoils me so much omg THANKS DARLING <3
Anyway, Professor Marks touched my mole for 3 seconds and said, “This is just plain eczema, can’t you feel it?” in this singsong ~~ELEMENTARY MY DEAR WATSON!~~ manner. Hot Asian Doctor was looking at us both sheepishly, prolly feeling guilty for calling the Prof away from his office awww :3
And then the worst happened: The Prof told me to strip so the both of them could examine my back. KILL. ME. NOW. The contents of last night’s dinner swirled in my head like a tragic bowl of punch: sweet chilli tofu, grilled chicken, some carrots, a mountain of rice and half a chocolate muffin. DAMN IT THAT CHOCOLATE MUFFIN. So while I was putting on my sad strip show, Hot Asian Doctor had a little chat with the Professor about some other patient business in an effort to keep things less awkward for me. I really appreciated that omg ;__; In Singapore, if you had to strip for the doctor – he’ll barely give you two minutes to get your shiz together before saying, “HELLO, READY OR NOT?” True story, k.
The two doctors gave my back a quick glance and satisfied by the lack of melanoma symptoms it showed, they thanked me for my time and walked me out to the reception (so nice and polite omg SINGAPORE Y U NO HAVE GENTLEMEN?!)
So yay, I’m cancer-free guys! I’m so thankful it was just a false alarm but er I am a little scarred that Hot Asian Doctor had to see my love handles .__. I’ll get over it eventually but I still cry in the shower thinking about my strip show HAHAHAH ok no.
But in all seriousness, skin cancer is not to be trifled with. If you have a mole that’s been bothering you for a while, I urge you to have it checked out! Remember to wear sunscreen and stay out of the sun. Thanks to everyone who was panicking along with me on Twitter and in real life LOL, I appreciate all the love and well wishes <3 <3 <3
Note: I suffer from contact dermatitis – I’m allergic to nickel, which sadly is what most costume jewellery is made of. Whenever I wear my rings or any other non-silver/gold jewellery for long periods of time, I eventually get eczema as an allergic reaction. To put it simply: I suffer for fashion. The good thing is if and when I get married in the future and I shop for jewellery with my husband, I can say, “Honey, it’s not my fault I have expensive taste, I WAS BORN THIS WAY!” 8D