Look Into It

He seems nice enough...

As promised, my dermatologist referred me to a specialist. Soon a nurse called to schedule my appointment with the most highly acclaimed dermatologic surgeon in the Midlands. “Do you know about the Mohs procedure?” she asked. I did not, but since I am a youthful techno-savvy lady with the Internet at my fingertips, I lied and told her that I did.

Should you ever find yourself doing research into the Mohs procedure, stick to the Mayo Clinic summary: "layers of cancer-containing skin are progressively removed and examined until only cancer-free tissue remains." It sounds friendly, worded like that; the type of thing that'll leave nothing worse than the mark left by the initial biopsy.

One must resist, under all circumstances, the impulse to search "Mohs" in google images. No matter how badly one wants a picture to go with one's blog post.

This being a PG-13 blog, I won't horrify you with the results of my search. Words alone will have to suffice. I saw things you wouldn't find in a Freddy Krueger movie. Gouges out of cheeks. Half a missing scalp. Nose removals, lips torn asunder. Quentin Tarantino ain't got nothin' on this Mohs guy, let me tell you.

Larry, Curly, and MOHs.

Dr. Frederic Mohs invented the microsurgery in 1938 - and no, he wasn't from Nazi Germany. A procedure this tried and true seems good enough to not lose sleep over, especially considering that I'm not special. One in five people get basal cell carcinoma, and Skincancer.org says comfortingly "it's rarely fatal." Ignore the part about how it can be "highly disfiguring" and you can rest your weary head.

(For some reason, I can't get "The Three Stooges" out of my weary head. Like Mohs, the Stooges premiered in the 1930's. Their first episode was called "Woman Haters." Coincidence? I think not.) (This digression is brought to you by the Vanity Research Institute, where people who claim to be aging gracefully instead wantonly fret about as yet nonexistent facial scars.)