Sometime around the end of last year, I noticed an odd-looking mole on my left calf. I remember thinking that I hadn’t ever noticed a normal-looking mole (or even a freckle) there on that spot, before that day. But then, on that day when I did notice something, what I saw aroused my suspicion. Because it looked, well, odd.

Two shades of brown. Circular-ish in shape, but certainly asymmetrical. Slightly raised in one area.

I remember Googling pictures of moles, comparing the looks of basal-cell and squamous-cell carcinomas, and melanomas to my own brown blob. I saw a couple that could have been its twin. The look-alikes were classic melanomas.

I researched further, finding an article about the ABCDEs of melanoma. I made a mental checklist. Asymmetrical? Check. Border irregularity? Check. Color variation? Check. Elevation? Check.

The only descriptor that didn’t fit was the D — Diameter. Because my mole was smaller than a pencil eraser.

Brushing aside all the signs that pointed to something more ominous, I allowed one unchecked box convince me that my mole was simply that, a mole. Not some scary tumor the name for which ended in -oma. No way.

Months passed during which I only occasionally thought about the mole. Usually, I would be sitting on the chaise section of our living room sofa, and I would cross my left leg over my right leg at the knee, catching a glimpse of it. Of my smaller-than-a-pencil-eraser-probably-totally-nothing “age spot.”

In late May, I read and commented on a post by writer Megan Jordan of Velveteen Mind. In the post, Megan told the story of her then-recent diagnosis of melanoma. In my comment, I said,

Well crap, Megan. So terribly sorry this is on your plate right now. I’m thinking of you and sending loads of positive thoughts your way.

And yeah, I’ll make the appointment I’ve been putting off to check that weird freckle on my calf. First thing in the morning. Thanks.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I added “find a dermatologist and make appointment” to my lengthy to-do list. At the bottom. Naturally. And another two months passed.

On my 40th birthday, July 9th, my family gathered at our home to celebrate. Near the end of the evening, I was chatting with my sister-in-law, who is a P.A. (Physician’s Assistant), and the thought crossed my mind that I should show her the spot and see if she thought it was something.

And I didn’t.

You know how people say sometimes God — or the universe, or fate, or destiny, or intuition or whatever or whomever you believe in — whispers things to you and then, if you don’t respond, SCREAMS things at you? Consider the following:

On July 24th, I was drying off after a shower and stopped to really study that mole of mine. I thought, You know Jenny, deep down, you are worried that it is something. You know it is something. You should really find a dermatologist and make an appointment right now. Really. Now.

But instead of listening to my gut, I took a couple of pictures of the area with my iPhone, intent on posting them to Facebook or Twitter and asking everyone else for opinions on the matter. Then I changed my mind and deleted the pictures. And did nothing. Again.

Until . . .

The very next day, a friend of mine (not to mention one of the smartest, funniest women I know), Melanie Nelson of Blogging Basics 101 posted this on her Facebook wall:

Can anyone in Tulsa recommend a good dermatologist? Preferably in south Tulsa, but it’s important enough that I’ll go past 61st if I HAVE to. Anyone?

I nearly fell out of my chair when I read it. Why hadn’t I posted a similar query to my own Facebook wall nearly a year ago? Why had I waited and wondered and worried for so many months?

I watched Melanie’s wall as her friends made recommendations that day, and then I called and made an appointment.

On August 15th, Dr. Tracy Kuykendall examined my mole. She looked at it standing up. She knelt down and got a closer look. She ran her index finger lightly over its top. She pressed it flat. Then she said, “Let’s just shave it off and do a biopsy. I don’t think it’s melanoma, but let’s just do it. I’ve been surprised before.”

Click here to see a picture of the post-biopsy wound.

Two days later, my iPhone rang. “Hi Jenny, this is Dr. Kuykendall’s office. We got the results of your biopsy back and it is definitely melanoma.”

Surprise.

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