no one wants cancer. I don't want cancer.

The pathology report was inconclusive. Perhaps it was a severely atypical dysplasia. Perhaps it was melanoma. No one seemed concerned about nailing this down. No one but me.

The surgery was unpleasant and fine. The offending cells were removed and the margins were wide and clear.


Did I have cancer? I don't know. Do I have cancer? No. At least not today. I have a big, long scar, but I do not have cancer.