It is an ex-mole

Today was the kind of day that makes me happy to just be alive. The weather was gorgeous, there were plum blossoms to be sniffed and photographed, Tabitha was unusually adorable and affectionate, I made shepherd's pie and Kimberly made fried okra and a cake and we had a good meal together, then watched a movie and knitted.

Oh, and it turns out the mole on my back was a dysplastic nevus, and not malignant melanoma. Not that I was incredibly worried about it, as the doctor had said it was most likely nothing serious, but I guess there was still a vague "what if..." lingering in the back of my mind, because I definitely felt a small twinge of relief when she told me it was all clear. So now I just have to remember to be extra-careful with the sunscreen, and to keep my back covered.

In case anyone was wondering what it looks like, here are pictures! Yes, I bugged my friends to take pictures of my back. Not precisely so I could share them with the world, but because it was the only way I could get a good look at the thing myself. I don't think it's too gross, but maybe those squeamish about stitches should not click. Also, I have bad back skin. Sadness! ( Wanna see? )

So far, the best story I can come up with is a failed assassination attempt. Give me some ideas, people: who did I take a bullet for?