Cancer Survivor

So as many of you know I had basal cell carcinoma on my forehead.

Today was surgery. The good news...I'm going to live.

This is on the way to the doctor's. We went to the Central Utah Clinic in Provo. The cancer spot is the red spot near my hairline on the right side of my forehead as you look at the picture.

He numbed the area, cut out a big ol' piece of my head, stitched me up, then sent me to a waiting room while he did some tests to see if he got all of it.

He missed a tiny sliver so he opened me back up, took it out, then closed me up for good. 

I'm making this picture BIG so you can see my stitches up close and personal. :) You're welcome.

I asked the nurse how many stitches there were. He said "a lot". It's true though, the doctor just kept stitching and stitching...mom said it was like a quilting bee. The raised scar will eventually flatten out. 

Look at me...still smiling. Even though I resemble Frankenstein now.

The doctor kept saying "you put this in a good place because it'll just blend in with your hairline."

Yeah I sure know how to pick a good spot for cancer. Planned that one perfectly.

Home and happy.

A Million Pictures

I got my hairs cut

Well it was about time for a haar schnitt. That's German for hair schnitt. I mean hair cut. Now remember, I've been wanting long hair for years and years and working my hardest to not cut it. It was a big effort....consisting primarily of not getting haircuts. But when I realized that I could sit and pick split ends out of my hair for the entire Sunday School class, and when I saw that even my split ends were getting split ends, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. And someone else's scissors.

Pre Haircut. I don't know how all the boys don't want this.

Post Haircut.

I went to Great Clips because it was a very spur of the moment thing. I couldn't make an appointment and, heaven forbid, wait a few days. Well when Great Clips turned out to be Poop Clips, like we all knew it would, I called the ward haircutting lady and made an appointment. (Seriously, look at my hair in that picture...what's with the three strands at the bottom that are longer than the rest? How did she miss those??) Ugh. It was terrble.

Luckily sweet Sister Rowley fixed my hair and I lived happily ever after.