Happiness Journey

The birthmark thing...

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Phew, the last post on my blog has been quite a while ago. Why haven't I written anything for so long? It's simple: I had to admit that I'm really a bloody beginner in the topic of “positive thinking”... But in turn:

Sometime last year in winter, my left palm — about where the thumb muscle starts — showed a tiny little birthmark. Unfortunately, it remained not so tiny, but grew to a size of just under 3 mm within a few months. That doesn't sound so big now, but it was enough to put my husband on the exclamation, “What's weird? I've never seen that before. You'd better go to the doctor to “get it.” Anyone who knows my husband knows that he has a lot of birthmarks. Available in all sizes, shapes and shades of colour. Some lie above the skin, some lie below, some have funny hair, some are light brown, some are deep black. More or less regularly he lets everyone check at the dermatologist. It also happened that the dermatologist removed one or the other birthmark as a precautionary precautionary measure — fortunately always with negative results. My husband always remained completely relaxed during these procedures, which is why his reaction to my small minimuttermal which seemed to me completely unspectacular until then frightened me a little. Since we were still in the middle of our wedding preparations at that time, I decided to have the birthmark examined in peace after the wedding. Every time I looked at my hand, it seemed more and more suspicious and it seemed darker, bigger and more bulky from day to day. So I was happy when I finally found my way into my dermatology practice at the end of June. In conversation with the nice lady at the reception, I decided to schedule an appointment for a complete skin cancer screening instead of just having the single birthmark checked. Unfortunately, it was only for the 16th of July to have an appointment again and I was impatiently waiting for the investigation. Then it was finally time. When the doctor asked me at the beginning of the examination if I noticed anything unusual, I thought (for whatever reason) that it might be smart not to bump her nose directly to the bottom of my visit. Somehow I didn't want to give me the impetus to have the birthmark cut out. You're stupid, I know. So all parts of the body were examined and the birthmarks were found harmless until it was said, “Now please show me your palms! “And it came as it had to come... the doctor looked at the new birthmark with her naked eye for a long time, and then asked with a worried eye: “But this doesn't change, does it? “When I told her that I didn't know if “change” is the right word here, because the mark was finally new, she pulled out her dermatoscope and examined it again skeptically. With a strange expression of the face, she then said that the structure and the color scheme were not entirely appreciated and that she would recommend to have it removed. An operating date for August 21 was agreed directly. Since I had already expected it, I just thought, “Okay, then it will just be removed. Everything is all right anyway.” So far, at least, this has been the case with all the people around me. I constantly heard of precautionary distant birthmarks, each of which turned out to be benign. Well, I'm sure it's with me, right? OR? OR???

With this very question in mind, I found silly nut me of course a little later in Dr. Google's office hours. Actually, I just wanted to calm myself down through a quick research. I was firmly convinced that I could probably read something like “newly emerged birthmarks on the palm of my hand are never vicious and are only cut out by money-greedy doctors under flimsy pretexts.” But incorrectly thought: just newly formed birthmarks on the palm or sole of the foot are usually malignant and have a bad prognosis. Oh, great. Also the birthmarks shown next to the corresponding articles looked very, very similar to mine. And already I had really gotten into the matter. I spent a lot of my spare time in the practice of Dr. Google until August 21 and clicked through all websites accompanied by panic palpitations, watched videos on the topic on YouTube and looked at the birthmark almost a minute. To be able to enlarge it even better, I took a magnifying glass to the aid and, of course, took various photos with my mobile phone. Meanwhile, I know that birthmarks are called “moles” in English and “lunares” in Spanish. Mole marks on the hands are accordingly “lunares de los manos”. I think that says a lot about my condition in the weeks up to surgery and my unhealthy research behavior... I stood neatly beside me. I had the feeling that I could only really participate in life once I know what happened to the birthmark. When I read the lines I write here, it sounds quite exaggerated in my ears... but what can I say... it was unfortunately!

I was really looking forward to the surgery appointment. I finally wanted to get rid of the birthmark and finally know what it was. The surgery was really a piece of cake. There were a few small anesthetic syringes in the hand that burned a bit, the birthmark was punched out (completely painless), then the wound was sewn, there was a patch and an appointment to pull the thread. The wound really healed very well and on August 21, the office hours help told me quite incidentally after pulling the threads (which took about 2 seconds): “We now also have your findings, there was everything in order. “

And that was my world: all right again! ☺

This story reminded me that I still have to learn viiiiiel if I want to think more positively in the future. For weeks I got into something that I had no influence at all. My “great” research and thinking about unlaid eggs didn't make me any further. Rather, on the contrary. I felt like slowed down, and my life was more or less silent. Any negative thought brought even more bad feelings and fears. When I opened YouTube, I was directly suggested documentaries on deadly diseases. A good example of the law of attraction and that you may also attract more of what you DO NOT want if you are constantly engaged in it... I would have really had a lot more of distracting myself with beautiful things in the weeks before surgery and thinking of anything except birthmarks! Seriously: even in case the birthmark had been malignant, would it have been much better to spend the weeks before the diagnosis with beautiful things?

At the end of the day, I can be happy that I haven't carried away from this whole thing more than a tiny scar. In the future, this scar should always remind me to focus on the beauty of life and not to exaggerate me into a stupid thing again. Well, it's pretty good that she's by the hand and I can always keep an eye on her, right?

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