If you are fair-skinned (i.e normally white), have freckles and even a hint of red-hair, you are more susceptible to some form of skin cancer. This is a fact of course, but after the fact for me. As a kid I was always envious of anyone with a tan. It seemed like some people were able to just walk outside and if there was even a hint of sun they would tan. Culture at the time didn’t help matters either. Coppertone had the logo of the dog pulling on the swim trunks of a child showing a distinct tan line making everyone assume that was all it took was to slather it on and get a healthy looking tan. Of course no one spoke of SPF or “broad spectrum” coverage; pour that oily substance all over your body and enjoy the sun! I burned and peeled regularly, made worse by living in an uninsulated apartment with no swamp cooler. Sweltering at night, swimming in your own sweat while trying to ignore your 2nd degree sunburn made for a long uncomfortable night. After it peeled a few times I would forget the pain and do it all over again. The dream of being tan never went away, nor did the sunburns, but new technology gave hope to a quicker way to finally get a tan; the tanning booth. My wife tanned easier than me, but also saw an advantage to tanning; you could do it anytime, so no matter the weather you could always have that golden healthy glow of a beautiful tan. Nothing better than walking into the tanning salon during a blizzard and walking out 30 minutes later with a sunny smile on your face. We were so addicted to tanning that we actually bought a tanning bed and moved it to Seattle and even Miami. When we decided to leave Florida and move to California, we decided to sell the tanning bed. We were quite surprised by the popularity of them, especially Miami, and had no difficulty selling it. By the time we found our way back to Salt Lake City, family and career made tanning a bit frivolous so it became less and less frequent until we finally stopped.

I had noticed a red splotchy patch on my neck, just below my right ear and had continued trying to convince myself it was a “birthmark.” I wasn’t born with it and up until six-months ago I had never noticed it so secretly I started researching it. This was 1996 so the internet was still new and coverage regarding skin cancer was still fairly rare so my best bet was to see a specialist, a dermatologist I was told. I was 41. The doctor needed to do a biopsy to confirm his suspicion and would let me know. It was Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving when I received two calls. The first was from a ear-nose and throat specialist. I had visited him because I was having a issue with my left ear. If felt like swimmers ear but it persisted so I went to a specialist. After checking my ears and giving my a hearing test he thought I had a brain-tumor and requested a CT scan. My poor wife was freaking out; her perfectly healthy husband was now facing cancer and a brain tumor. She raced between the lab and the doctors office to get the x-rays to him for diagnosis. The call was to come to his office. As we both sat there; terrified by the results and what it may mean, the doctor folded his hands over the envelope containing my results and spoke. “Well, good news, it actually was swimmers ear. There is no tumor.” My wife and I looked at each other in disbelief and wiped tears from our eyes. It was then I realized how angry I was. “Are you fucking kidding me!” “The first thing I asked was could it be swimmers ear and no, it must be something else and you decided it must be a tumor!” “You are an idiot!” It was either get out of that office or reach across the desk and beat the living shit out of him. We left.

The second call came when we got home. As my wife started prepping for the big meal tomorrow, my phone rang. It was the dermatologist office. “Mr. Hansen?” “Speaking” I said. “This Dr. Flint’s office with your results. They came back positive for basal cell carcinoma.” I felt numb. When you hear the word cancer, in any form, it is frightening. The nurse walked through the procedure and told me they would be performing a Mohs surgery because of the depth of my cancer but assured me of its success rate. The appointment was made. It was in two-weeks which gave me plenty of time to think about it. The doctor again assured me of the success rate and explained if you have to get a skin cancer, this is the one to have. At least it isn’t melanoma. I am 65 now and have had 8 basal cell procedures, 6 of which were Mohs, so I am an old hand at this. My latest dermatologist appointment was rescheduled because of COVID. it was originally slated for March 27th, but both the doctor and myself decided to reschedule because of the pandemic. My appointment was two weeks before leaving for Yellowstone and honestly, I completely forgot about it until receiving a call this week. I had a spot that the doctor felt was nothing but did a biopsy out of an abundance of caution. When I returned the call I expected a quick “negative” response but what I got was “please hold” as I got transferred several times. The last lady on the phone confirmed my identity and followed with “Your results came back positive for Melanoma.” I was stunned! “Really?” was all I could muster. I reminded the nurse my history with skin cancer so these calls are not unexpected but this is a first for melanoma. She then assured me that it was caught early and was only one layer deep, so it can be done in the doctors office. It did not require a visit to the Huntsman Cancer Institute which is where I normally end up. My appointment is Monday, so wish me luck.

The moral of the story is if you are outdoors wear skin-protection whenever possible. The new varieties of sunscreen are excellent; easy to apply, many are waterproof and non greasy. The other moral is if you think you have swimmers ear get a second opinion before getting a CT scan.