My family has a history of skin cancer, so we are too well aware of the dangers. We look for moles, inspect all new freckles, and we always, always wear sun screen. But at a recent family gathering my mom noticed a little something on my face.
“Dana,” my mom said in her you-should-know-better voice, “you should get that looked at.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” I replied. It had been there for years. I was sure it was nothing. She stared at me like only a mother can. I rolled my eyes and changed the subject.
So this morning when the nurse asked, “What brings you here today, Dana?,” I answered as truthfully as I could.
“My mom told me to come.”