Biopsy - A Four Letter Word?

The thing that's on my mind these days (okay, so really there are lots, but right this second this is one) is skin biopsies. After I had Sophie I had a mole removed that was ugly, and it came back that it had some atypical cells in it. The doctors also call them "pre-cancer cells", but since that sounds a lot scarier than it is, I will stick with the actual name. Anyway, so about 7 weeks after having Sophie I had to go in to the dermatologist and have every mole on my body looked at with a little device (which that soon after birth let's just say that my body was still a disaster and laying there naked on the exam table while the dermatologist and her nurses looked me over was no fun!) that resulted in me getting a 3-inch football shaped chunk of skin cut out where the first mole had come from, along with another mole that was much smaller, but they had to go pretty deep to get out all of the atypical cells they found in that one. Neither of these were of any concern to me when I saw them, but apparently could have turned into something much worse. So on top of recovering from childbirth, now I had stitches to recover from as well. Good times. I was told to go back every year to have the same exam done, but last year our insurance was, well, not so helpful, so it didn't get done.

Fast forward to this year. I went last week to get checked and hoped against hope that they would look me over, say "everything looks great, just keep an eye of things" and let me go. No such luck. They found 3 spots that looked suspicious. So along with being massively uncomfortable seeing a new doctor (male this time too, ugh) and standing there in my paper gown while he and his two nurses looked me over, I then had to sit there even longer while I had three moles removed and now get to do the fun part of caring for these spots so they don't scar terribly while waiting for the biopsy results to tell me if there were 1) any atypical cells present and 2) if they got them all out the first time or if I'll have to go in for more. It sucks. Not going to lie. Of course I much rather have moles removed and chunks of skin cut out now than to get skin cancer and have to deal with that, but the whole experience to me is annoying, humiliating, painful, stressful, and just all around not a good time. I would much rather be worrying about getting a job right now than whether or not I'm going to have to get chopped up and studied some more. But no. Genetics and constant sunburns as a kid have taken that privilege away. I wasn't even a big tanner - I went to the tanning bed a few times, but not often. There was one summer where I tanned constantly, and that's when I lived in Bear Lake. Still dumb, but you see these girls who go tanning every week or more, and I can't help but wonder if they will have to deal with the same stuff I am. Hopefully no, because it sucks. But I'll never know. Anyway, I'm just venting right now, but hopefully through my vent everyone can remember to put on some sunscreen and get checked on for signs of anything that could lead to skin cancer or even just atypical cells so you don't have to go through what I am or worse. And please cross your fingers for me that my biopsies come back okay! :-\