PART 1: Discovering the problem

I had Mohs surgery on Tuesday, May 11, 2010. I am writing this on Friday, May 14th. I am relieved that it is over, but I wanted to share my story in the hopes that others can gain comfort from it. Bottom line: it was not that bad.

I want to help allay the fears leading up to Mohs.

Once you get the diagnosis of skin cancer, of course, there is plenty of anxiety. I read as many sites as I could, and was even more scared and upset when I realized how extensive it could be, as skin cancers are unpredictable and no one knows for sure how much they extend beneath the skin until they actually go in and look. I spent days before my surgery worrying, but also did other things which helped a lot, and I want to share those in the hopes that they may help you.

First, the background. My skin has always tanned, seldom burned, and I never had any problems in my yearly dermatologist visits. My skin is slightly on the olive side, and my family never had problems with their skin. I did grow up in tropical countries, under the hot sun, and as a child was always outside, and we didn't even know about sun damage then. As a teenager, I did get several sunburns, as this was before we knew how important sunscreens were. I did the baby oil and iodine, laying out in the sun routine. I went to the beach a lot. However, ever since awareness of sun damage became widely known, I've used sunscreen and tried to stay out of the sun.

So when I went to my yearly dermatological visit, I was not nervous. I did point out to the doctor, however, that there was a pimple on the right side of my nose that didn't want to go away. It had been there for about a year, since my last check up, and I kept putting acne lotions on it. It would flatten or dry up, but reappear. It did not look very different from a regular pimple, so I was not concerned. My dermatologist too one look and said, That looks like a basal cell carcinoma. It has little red veins running through it. Let's do a biopsy. There happened to be a medical student in the room, so she described it to him.

Now, I hate needles. Much more in the nose. So this was not a fun prospect. She wiped down the area and then injected the Lidocaine. It stung for a moment, but I pretended I was having a facial, and after a moment, I no longer felt the other injections around the site. Then she scraped it off.

It took them several days to call back. Meanwhile, I was instructed to keep the area moist with Polysporin. It helps the cells grow back together. I had a bandage on it, but it did not really hurt. I was more concerned about hearing the outcome.

I called the office and they were not available. I called the next day and left a message. I finally heard back from the assistant, who delivered the news quite matter-of-factly. I nearly fell off my chair, as I was not expecting this, and had no information about basal cell carcinomas. Just the name was enough to make me faint. She did say, however, that it was the "best" kind to have, the most common, the least fatal, the slowest growing. That was of no comfort to me, as now I was realized that further surgery was needed, and as stated before, I hate needles. I even avoid going to the doctor as much as I can. The assistant told me the doctor would call me to discuss options.

She did call that evening. I had spent the afternoon in a daze and with rapid heartbeats. Fortunately, my husband, who has had several moles removed, was very supportive. The doctor recommended Mohs surgery and explained what it was. She gave me the name of a very good doctor who specialized in this. She said that was who she would go to if it were her nose. That's all he did: he had done ten thousand of these surgeries. She said that these types of cancers come from childhood damage and take years to manifest. So the damage was done in those early years.