Well, Cindy Crawford I’m not.  She’s made millions off of her trademarked mole,  but when my oncologist spotted one on my back 2 weeks ago, he didn’t offer me a lucrative modeling contract.  Instead, it was back to the dermatologist, the original scene of the crime (see previous posts), to have it looked at and possibly removed and biopsied. 

Seborrheic Keratosis.  No, he’s not a swimmer for the Greek Olympic team.  That’s what my “mole” is.  It’s just a benign brown barnacle thing that people can get as they age.  I don’t know why I have one since I’m still 28 in my mind, but it is what it is.  Whales have barnacles, and now I have one.  I’m gonna show it to the gate attendant at Sea World and see if I can get in free as a “Friend of Shamu.”  I bet they’d let Cindy Crawford  in, and she only has a mole.  

Tomorrow it’s time for my next test, the ever-popular MUGA scan (pronounced MUGGA, not M-U-G-A unless you’re one of The Village People…)  The MUGA scan is a regularly-scheduled video of the heart to see if the chemo is doing it any harm.  I had one before we started the treatments to see what the original factory specs of my heart were.  I wasn’t quite ready to lay on my back perfectly still while this machine hovered just inches from my face for 15 minutes though.  I’m a very calm, low-key guy, but I don’t do well in close quarters like that.  So this time, they’ve prescribed my very first dose of Valium.  Could be quite a show.  Either I’ll feel uninhibited enough to really freak out about the claustrophobia, or I’ll happily break into a slurred version of “I left my heart in scan Francisco.”  

Monday was to be my PET scan to see if the cancer has been scared off, but the appointment has been postponed to Thursday.  It’s kind of the most significant hurdle I’ve had to jump in all of my 28 years (!), so the 4-day delay seems like an eternity.

Maybe instead on Monday I’ll head over to Sea World and flash my “back”stage pass…