Let's Face It
I am getting ready for my all-too-often jaunt to Super Target. This one, though, is kind of an act of courage for me. That's because, in an effort to keep pre-skin cancerous spots from becoming the real thing, I'm undergoing a dermatological treatment.
Thus, for a few more weeks, my face looks like melted candy canes have been poured onto it. That, or I am a sheep herder in the arid desert, where neither sunscreen nor moisturizer are available.
I am willing to do this because the idea of skin cancer scares the daylights out of me. I am trying to be upbeat, to find humor in it, to not freak anyone out with my looks.
Still, I am sorely tempted to stay home. Yet I am mustering my resolve and heading out for several reasons -- among them that I'm accomplishing virtually nothing at home. But also these: To prove to myself I am not merely my face. To show my son (who, God love him, still manages to carry on conversations with little reference to Freddy Krueger) that sometimes we just have to plunge right into life. To practice talking to strangers, to whom I feel compelled to explain this unsightliness.
So here I go. If you see me, smile and wave. If you want to say hello, feel free to focus your eyes at a spot somewhere over my shoulder; I'll understand. And let's hope that in a few weeks or so, people will peg me for someone years younger. Or at least (or most) someone who took some not-so-pretty steps to stay healthy.