July 29, 2008

From The Things Couldn't Get Any Worse Department...


Now this may shock you, but I make a point to get a Brazilian Bikini Wax every month. That probably sounds like sheer torture, but after doing it for 2 years, it's not so bad. And having a nicely maintained crab claw makes me feel less ashamed of that part. It may cause me a lot of problems, but at least it looks pretty.

After my first Brazilian, I got down on my hands and knees, spread my cheeks and snuck a peek. I wanted to see how thorough it really was. To my surprise, I discovered a freckle near my leather cheerio. I thought it was kinda sexy, like having a beauty mark. Cindy Crawford wishes she had this freckle!

Well two years have passed and that sexy little beauty mark has grown to be at least 10 times its original size. I'm sure most of you out there are pretty comfortable with a hand mirror by now. I was doing a routine check to see what was going wrong down there this week. While I was down there, I thought I'd take a look at my cute little freckle. It's not cute any more!

It's important to keep an eye on all your moles and marks. From afraidtoask.com, here's the ABCs of Mole Warning Signs:

Asymmetry
Asymmetry can be assessed by comparing one half of the growth to the other half to determine if the halves are equal in size. Unequal or asymmetric moles are suspicious.


Border
If the mole's border is irregular, notched, scalloped, or indistinct, it is more likely to be cancerous (or precancerous) and is thus suspicious.


Color
Variation of color (e.g., more than one color or shade) within a mole is a suspicious finding. Different shades of browns, blues, reds, whites, and blacks are all concerning.


Diameter
Any mole that has a diameter larger than a pencil's eraser in size (> 6 mm) should be considered suspicious.


Elevation
If a mole is elevated, or raised from of the skin, it should be considered suspicious.

I was concerned about my mole, but I didn't know who to contact about it. I called my dermatologist and asked his assistant if he would look at a mole about an inch from my anus. She said, "Hmm, I'm going to have to call you back about that one." Fortunately, my dermatologist was willing to look at it. Now this man looks at my face, the thought of him a few inches away from my chocolate starfish was troubling.

At his office, I undressed from the waist down and he used a paper sheet with a hole in it to maintain my modesty. His nurse was in the room. I was lying on my back and he pulled my cheeks apart and poked around for what felt like an eternity. Finally he said, "Get dressed and I'll take to you in the office."

Great... He told me that I had an atypical mole that needed to be removed and biopsied. Unfortunately, he didn't feel comfortable removing it himself because of its proximity to my cornhole. He told me to try my gynocologist or a surgeon. My vulvodynia specialist happens to be both.

My dermatologist wished me luck and told me to tell him how it turned out. He said, "I have to tell you, this is the first time in 40 years I've ever seen something like that."

"Well I'm happy to be your first," I said.

"No you're not." We both had a good laugh.

That brings me to today. This evening, my vulvodynia doctor is going to shave the mole off my big brown eye.

I'm afraid to even ask what else could go wrong down there!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

lucky you, it's only a mole! I have a skin tag dangerously close to my butthole that I'm going to have my gyn take a look at tomorrow, when i have my routine check.

I've been to the crotch doc at least 7 times (not a huge number for girls like us, right) in the past year and I haven't gotten the nerve to ask about it. But now that it is practically turning into a tail it's time. It's like a quarter inch long!

Quinn said...

Oh good lord, Lora! I hope it's nothing. Good luck tomorrow.

You would think, as much as we have our parts out on display, you would get past feeling self-conscious. I certainly haven't.

The thought of a doctor poking around my butthole, makes me squirm.