I went to see Dr. Basil Cherpelis at Moffitt this morning to get my moles checked out.

It was surreal going to work this morning as a patient instead of a member of the PR & Marketing team.

It didn’t quite sink in until they put the patient ID bracelet on me.

It really sunk in when they told me to disrobe and put the hospital gown on with the opening to the back.

After having my vitals taken, a resident took an initial peek to see what I looked like. She noted the suspicious mole, aka the birthmark on my left hip.

The resident circled it, and a nurse came in to photograph it in all its glory.

Side note: I used to hate my birthmark. When I was little, it made me feel self-conscious. Not that you would see it that often, but I knew it was there. I thought I could scratch it off, and sometimes I would try until I bled. But the older I got, the more I embraced it. It made me different, and I liked it. Today I love it.

When Dr. Cherpelis came to examine me, I started getting nervous.

I could have melanoma!

He gave me a full body scan and said the tiny mole on my toe seemed harmless.

He inspected every inch of me. He even pulled my undies down to examine my bum!

But then he took a look at the birthmark on my hip.

“Yes, that looks suspicious. Let’s have that removed.”

WHAT?

I wasn’t expecting that. When he said “removed,” he meant entirely. The whole shebang. Poof.

The resident was the one who cut my mole off using a device that looks like a cookie cutter. It was the perfect size to grab my entire mole and pluck it away.

I didn’t feel anything because of the local anesthesia (thank goodness), but I saw the blood.

I’m a sicko and like to watch blood and gore. Except when it’s my own, I’ve decided.

Because there was a gaping hole (well, the size of a pencil eraser) left, the resident stitched me up. That didn’t hurt, either, although I could feel the pressure of her pulling the thread through my skin.

The resident said I needed to put an antibiotic ointment on my stitches and change the dressing every day. I would be back in two weeks to have the stitches removed and receive the results of my biopsy.

All in all, the procedure wasn’t so bad. It didn’t hurt at all.

Until later that afternoon, when the anesthesia wore off. Ow!

Anytime I stretched or moved too much, it hurt.

I’m glad I got checked out and had the suspicious mole removed.

But I won’t lie—I miss my little mole.