With a Capital EM: Time to Pay the Tanning Toll
As far as vices go, I have to think that the tanning salon is hardly the worst.
Yet, as I embark on what I am going to fondly call, The Moley Grail Removal, I am cursing myself for each and every time I lathered up and baked.
That’s a lie. I loved each and every time and even right now as I type this column I’d much rather be in a tanning bed.
But when I went in for my physical this year and the doc took note of a super-dark mole on my back, I decided it is probably better to be safe than sorry.
The trip to the dermatologist started out great. I gave my age, my list of medications (which is none and super impressed the nurse’s assistant who kindly said “that is amazing for your age”) and explained where I thought the problem was.
Again, the nurse’s assistant reassured me it was probably no big deal. Enter the doctor who, for lack of a better term, “freaked” at seeing the spot and told me she was going to remove it. Like, now. “I didn’t see that one coming,” said the nurse’s assistant.
Thank God, that spot came back normal. But now I’m in for four more removals, which will result in me taking ever more showers with plastic wrap on part of my body (just ask me how fun it is to have your better half tape up your back while talking in a Arnold Schwarzenegger voice saying “You are part machine, part human.” – Okay, its a little fun.)
Of course it also results in no more tanning beds. I long for the warm, coconut-butter smelling wonder that is the tanning salon. Maybe it’s that those 20 minutes are the most quiet I get all day.
Maybe it’s ritual I’m missing. After all, since I was in eighth grade, March has marked the month that I hop into the tanning salon for a few sessions before I hit the beach for vacation.
By the way, if you’re in the Daytona Beach area in April and see a ghostly figure walking about, no worries — that’s me.
Maybe what really makes me sad about leaving my tanning bed days behind is the fact that it signifies that I’m a real adult. I’ve made a choice based on what’s best for my health and I’m sticking to it.
I guess, if nothing else, I can tell myself that in time spray tans will become my new vice.
Tags: dermatology, emily caswell, tanning, with a capital em
Emily Caswell is the Managing Editor of CAWLM. She has a passion for fun, family, friends, shopping sprees, cold drinks and Lansing.