One malignancy is skyrocketing among young men. Are you at risk?
July 13, 2006 (Press Release) --
When it's Not a Birthmark
Chris Dale's sister Amanda had seen that mole on his scalp for years, ever since Chris got his hair buzzed high and tight for the army. But it wasn't until the spring of 2004, after she'd taken a "skin-care essentials" class in her massage-therapy school, that she realized it could be more than a birthmark and began nagging him about seeing a dermatologist.
Chris must've told Amanda a million times that he couldn't afford a doctor's bill. He'd just been discharged from the military because of his bad knees, and at 24, he was still working only part-time for the sheriff's office and not yet eligible for health-care coverage.
Besides, the army docs had scoped him out from tip to toe when he was inducted the year before, and even more thoroughly when he was medically discharged 6 months later. He wasn't any big sun worshipper, either. Sure, he'd hung out at the beach — after all, he lived in St. Augustine, Florida, and spent a few childhood years in the U.S. Virgin Islands, thanks to his dad's National Park Service job. But if he was spending a day in the sun, it was usually in a wool uniform. Chris had been a war buff since he was barely out of diapers, shooting his own black-powder musket by the time he was 5 and using his vacation time to attend Civil War reenactments. Besides, he snorted to his sister, he didn't even have a tan; his skin was as pale as his white T-shirt, and when he patrolled the beach on his sheriff's department ATV, he slathered on plenty of sunscreen.
"But Amanda, being a Scorpio and an older sister, had to have the last word," says Pattie Dale, Chris's mom. "She said she'd pay for it herself, and even make the appointment with her dermatologist." Chris grumbled his way to the doctor's office, and sure enough, it was just a benign birthmark. "Nothing to worry about," the doctor said.
Source: http://health.msn.com/
Chris Dale's sister Amanda had seen that mole on his scalp for years, ever since Chris got his hair buzzed high and tight for the army. But it wasn't until the spring of 2004, after she'd taken a "skin-care essentials" class in her massage-therapy school, that she realized it could be more than a birthmark and began nagging him about seeing a dermatologist.
Chris must've told Amanda a million times that he couldn't afford a doctor's bill. He'd just been discharged from the military because of his bad knees, and at 24, he was still working only part-time for the sheriff's office and not yet eligible for health-care coverage.
Besides, the army docs had scoped him out from tip to toe when he was inducted the year before, and even more thoroughly when he was medically discharged 6 months later. He wasn't any big sun worshipper, either. Sure, he'd hung out at the beach — after all, he lived in St. Augustine, Florida, and spent a few childhood years in the U.S. Virgin Islands, thanks to his dad's National Park Service job. But if he was spending a day in the sun, it was usually in a wool uniform. Chris had been a war buff since he was barely out of diapers, shooting his own black-powder musket by the time he was 5 and using his vacation time to attend Civil War reenactments. Besides, he snorted to his sister, he didn't even have a tan; his skin was as pale as his white T-shirt, and when he patrolled the beach on his sheriff's department ATV, he slathered on plenty of sunscreen.
"But Amanda, being a Scorpio and an older sister, had to have the last word," says Pattie Dale, Chris's mom. "She said she'd pay for it herself, and even make the appointment with her dermatologist." Chris grumbled his way to the doctor's office, and sure enough, it was just a benign birthmark. "Nothing to worry about," the doctor said.
Source: http://health.msn.com/
Email
Print
SPAM
LEAVE A COMMENT
