My Childhood in the California Sun Gave Me Skin Cancer...and It Was Worth It

I wouldn’t trade those carefree beach days for anything.

Illustration by Ellen Surrey

My doctor’s voice was tight and pinched on the other end of the phone. She’d told me she might call, but I hadn’t really expected her to. “It is cancer,” she said. “Very early stage. But it’s the less common and more concerning type. I’m sorry.”

After the call, the garble of good and bad news rattled in my brain, and I went to the mirror to look at the beige-ish smudge I’d lived with for a while. It wasn’t so different than the other spots I had on my hands and arms that seemed to pop up slyly overnight, little gifts left by the Age Fairy. But this mean deceiver was there, not even trying to hide, on my cheek. I was constantly trying to disguise it, though, with my Make Up Forever Full Cover Concealer. But I could never fully cover it, and I’d wanted it gone.

Looking at my reflection I wanted, more than ever, the creeper destroyed. I wondered just for a moment how this could have happened, though the obvious answer dawned on me right away as I gazed at my ref…