So, a couple of weeks ago this guy had me in a headlock. He’s trying to pull my noggin right off the top of my spine. I’m trying to find his femoral artery to go drilling for pain with a knuckle or two, hoping to loosen his chokehold just enough to work a counter. Then, all of a sudden, he stops trying to strangle me and he says, “Jeez mate, that’s a nasty spot you got there on the back of your head. You want to get that checked out.”
Guy’s name was Chris, a purple belt at the jujitsu club were I train and the nasty spot, as it turned out, was a melanoma. It has hiding around the back and just under the crown of my skull where I couldn’t see it.
It’s gone now. In its place I got this awesome-looking Frankenstein scar and a cautionary tale about putting off doctor visits. Chris wasn’t the only one who told me to get that spot checked. My mother, my mother-in-law and my wife all ganged up on me too. (That was much worse than having some dude trying to pull my head clean off its moorings, in case you were wondering).
Don’t leave it too late to get a potential melanoma checked out.
I wont tease the pay-off. It was a stage one melanoma any my dermo is pretty sure he got it all after he went in with his blades. That’s not surprising. He scalped me good, and when he was done it looked like there was a bucket of blood on the floor of the operating room.
I’ll still have go back every three or four months for the next couple of years to make sure the sneaky little bastard hasn’t come back or invited a few mates to pick up where he left off.
But enough about lucky ol’ me.
Lets talk about you.
You’ve been broiling under the same sun as me for the past 20, 30, 40 years.
You’ve got a couple of a spots here and there you’re trying to ignore. Maybe you’re telling yourself it’s just a bizarro freckle, or a beauty spot. Like Cindy Crawford’s. Yeah, that sounds good. You and the supermodel, you’re rocking that tiny blemish.
But I’m here today to tell you you’re not.
It’s a melanoma.
Or a sarcoma.
Or a displastic nevi.
And it wants to kill you.
So don’t make me send my mate Chris around to tear your head off before you get it checked out.
If you’re reading this on your phone, you could even make the appointment right now.
And if you’re at your desk, you still got no excuse. Just pick up the phone and do it.
I’ve got four or five books to come out this year and I want you to buy them. You’re no use to me dead. So go get that spot checked out.
Source: Read Full Article
