Do you want to hear my horror story? Of course you do, because we are all curious about what happens to others. When something bad happens to someone else, we want to figure out why, and how we can prevent it from happening to us. Then we search for reasons to justify why this would never happen to us. That, my friend, is human nature.

So let me tell you a story that starts in December 2018. I had a very small, white, raised, course spot in the middle of my left cheek that was annoying me. It had been there for maybe a year, and I just had enough of it. Now, I don’t like needles—in fact, I have a needle phobia—so I wasn’t thrilled when the dermatologist said she would cut it off for me. I had a body scan that day and was cleared. The doctor told me this white spot was nothing and that removing it was purely cosmetic. I was brave and had it removed.

At some point in early 2022 this spot grew back. That’s a bit alarming, don’t you agree? I had another spot in the middle of my right cheek that didn’t look normal, either, since it had two tiny black dots in the middle of it. This second spot had also been there for years and I always assumed it was a pimple that had never healed properly and left a mark.

So I was responsible, and off to the dermatologist I went to get a body scan, also called body mapping. Now it’s October 2022. My dermatologist did a quick scan that took a few minutes. I specifically pointed out these two spots in the middle of my face and said, “Why are there black dots in my skin?” She looked with a magnifying glass, and to my relief I was told that I was all-clear and was dismissed. She said if the original spot that grew back annoyed me, I could return to have it removed again. I opted not to, since my brother’s wedding was a few weeks later. I had no idea that my decision that day possibly saved my life.

OK, so now come with me to May 2023. I decided to go for a consultation with a new dermatologist since my hair started breaking from being in this very fun perimenopausal stage. (TMI? Oh, cut me a break. I’ve literally posted photos of my face.) The doctor wasn’t really able to do anything to help with that, but just as she was leaving, my gut said to have her look at these two spots on my face. (Full disclosure: My husband, Daniel, kept urging me to get a second opinion for months.) She looked at the original one and said she didn’t think it was anything dangerous, but she would biopsy it and send it to pathology.

When she looked at the spot on my right cheek she immediately said, “Oh, that’s basal cell carcinoma and you will need Mohs surgery to remove it.” Umm… What!!!? Carcinoma, like in cancer, and who is Moe? I started to feel flushed and needed to focus on my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out. Then I said it out loud. I HAVE CANCER? This very nice and young dermatologist said in her sweetest voice, “Yes, you have cancer but OMG, sooo don’t worry, because if you have to choose a cancer, this is the one to get!” Let me tell you, during this journey I learned that what she just said is the dumbest, most ignorant statement. Choose a cancer. Anyone who wants to choose a cancer, raise your hand.

So I walked back to my car in shock, made a few calls and texts and then I went into full-on research mode. I learned everything there is to know about the three types of skin cancer and the pros and cons of each type of treatment option. I davened to thank Hashem that it wasn’t melanoma. I joined Facebook support groups since guess what? It’s not “just skin cancer.”

I started to have crazy anticipatory anxiety while waiting for the pathology report. This waiting period and how the results were communicated to me is enough for another article. I was told that the original spot everyone thought was nothing, on the left, actually came back as squamous cell carcinoma, which can infiltrate organs, bone and lymph nodes. The dermatologist was correct about the second spot on the right, basal cell carcinoma. I was told to schedule Mohs surgery on the basal cell and that the squamous cell could be treated with six weeks of a cream, and it’s totally no big deal. I was also told that the squamous cell carcinoma is in situ, which means it’s “in place” and contained. Yay?

Of course I had a ton of questions. What happens with this surgery? What kind of cream and how does it work? Are there any side effects, and what are the restrictions during treatment or after surgery? I didn’t get to ask her any of these questions since after I asked her to please forward to me a copy of the pathology report, she quickly hung up the phone since it was 5 p.m. on a Friday. When I read the pathology report there was an inconsistency, it said, “limited to the scope of the slide and cannot rule out infiltration.” What? So is it contained or did it spread? Panic set in.

So now I needed clarification about the pathology report and the weekend had just started. Torture. Monday morning I’m all ready to make calls. I left a message for the diagnosing dermatologist and thank God I didn’t wait for her since she didn’t get back to me until the end of the day. I decided to try to speak directly to the pathologist who analyzed the slides. I was told that no one gets to speak to the pathologist, but it is amazing what can happen if a request is made in the right way. The pathologist was so kind that she pulled the slides and took another look. She confirmed what was written in the report. From what she could see the cancer was contained but it was at the base of the membrane and so she could not rule out infiltration.

OK, now what? I was told to get a copy of the pathology report from when my original dermatologist removed this spot, which was when? That’s right, December 2018. (Just making sure you are still with me.) So I called her office next and spoke to her front desk receptionist. I informed her that the dermatologist missed two different cancers in the middle of my face. She responded that she would make a note of it. Oh really, a note? Sure, that’s great, thank you so much! Don’t worry, it’s just my face, who needs a face anyway? I had my face for 51 years; it’s a solid run, right? Ugh! When I asked for the pathology report, I was told that there wasn’t one since she had deemed it to be cosmetic and therefore the specimen was thrown out. Hmmm. Have you heard anything from that dermatologist’s office since that call? Neither have I!

It takes time to research an excellent Mohs surgeon and a plastic surgeon, and now I have to wait since they tend to be booked for six to eight weeks. Mohs surgery is a process where they cut out the cancer layer by layer slowly to preserve as much healthy tissue as possible. After each layer, the specimen is sent to pathology on site to determine if there are clear margins all around, which indicates that the cancer is completely gone.

Do you know how creepy it is to walk around knowing there is cancer growing under your skin? I wanted the surgery ASAP, so waiting was really tough. To stay calm and sane, I realized I needed a new full body scan by someone competent to confirm I have nothing else going on.

This new dermatologist actually did a proper mapping. It took 40 minutes and she inspected every inch of my skin, head to toe, slowly, while making notes and taking measurements. This included examining my eyes, behind my ears, and in my mouth and yep, all of those places too; you can’t be bashful when it comes to your health! She was amazing and didn’t rush. She answered all my questions and helped me decide to have Mohs surgery on the squamous cell instead of using the chemo cream since I will know with 100% certainty that it is all out, b”H. When I needed reassurance about doing a second surgery, one of our beloved community dermatologists, who has been so generous and kind to me, said, “A good night’s sleep is worth its weight in gold.”

With skin cancer one cannot know how extensive it is until you are being cut open. The squamous cell was in fact in place and did not spread, thank you Hashem! The basal cell, which they thought would be nothing, was wide and deep. I required extensive facial reconstruction by my plastic surgeon, who is seriously a magician. My face is swollen and bruised and a main nerve in my face had to be cut so I will be numb for six months, all from a small dot on my face!

Want to hear crazy? Since they assumed the basal cell would only require a simple closure I was only scheduled for local anesthesia. They were not able to switch me over to general that day and I refused to go home with an open hole in my face so I opted to get my face cut up like a jigsaw puzzle while awake! I had approximately 42 shots of lidocaine to the face that day. Let’s just say I no longer have a needle phobia.

So here is what you have been waiting for … the true takeaway:

• Know your body. Know what spots you have and what they typically look like so that if anything changes or new ones emerge you can identify them and show the dermatologist. Stay vigilant!
• Get a full body scan, body mapping, by a reputable dermatologist who will spend the time to do it properly. Do it yearly, like a physical and a mammography.
• Wear sunscreen! Nobody likes sunscreen. It’s greasy and a pain in the neck to apply, especially when we just want to jump in the ocean or take a swim in the pool. And why bother since it will just wash off anyway? Stop being lazy and just do it! Apply, and every two to three hours, re-apply! Show your kids how to do it, and stress to them how critical this is! Skin cancer isn’t from right now or being careless a year ago. This is damage that has been building for decades, so please protect yourself and your family!
• Ask for a second opinion. This goes for all medical issues. Go with your gut and keep asking questions. If I had gotten that spot removed for the second time by my original dermatologist, and it was thrown out again, there is a chance the squamous cell would have eventually infiltrated my body and killed me.
• Wear a protective hat. Yes, even if you look like a total dork, at least you will be a healthy and alive dork!

My experience was so traumatic, painful and life-altering. It changed how I see myself, how I perceive the world, and enhanced my relationship with Hashem.

I needed to find some way to make this horrific ordeal into something positive and meaningful. No one should ever have to suffer like I just did, so I decided to go public. I’m not the type of person who would just cry and hide under the bed, although I wanted to many times, as my face is forever altered. I have nightmares that I will be left disfigured because the trauma to my face is extensive and the healing process is very slow. I won’t see a complete refuah for a year or two.

Therefore, since I am very active and “out there,” even if I wanted to, I can’t realistically hide this ordeal. The point is: Why should anybody feel that they need to hide if they have a flaw? We all have strengths and weaknesses; nobody is perfect. Having confidence in yourself and feeling comfortable in your own skin is key to success and overall health.

I am slowly accepting what happened to me, and at some point I hope to recognize the face looking back at me in the mirror again. This is who I am right now. I look broken and damaged, but it will not stop me. Teaneck has been my beloved home since 1985, and walking the familiar streets daily brings me so much comfort and joy. This will now change to nightly walks as I am not allowed to be in the sun for one year.

The real takeaway here is to be your genuine self no matter what—and do whatever you want in the world without fear of ridicule or judgment by others. So when you see me walking, and sometimes more like dancing, it’s because I won, and I am determined to be better and stronger from it!

The biggest bracha for me is everyone in this incredible community. The generosity and kindness that I have been shown by others—some are just acquaintances and others I’ve never met before—is so heartwarming and comforting, and I am very appreciative. I had people all over the world davening for my refuah, just wow! It is so humbling. I’ve had offers to go shopping for me, run errands, drive me to appointments, and sit with me in the waiting room. People are dropping off food and delicious baked goods, bringing me balloons, flowers and plants and sending me very thoughtful gifts that make me smile.

So many of you check on me regularly and send me funny videos or photos of flowers and animals. The most important and meaningful moments are when someone shares a photo of their kids putting on sunscreen or they tell me they have a dermatologist appointment because of my cancer. I am usually on the giving end and it is hard for me to be the receiver of so much, but it really gives me chizuk and joy knowing I am so blessed to be surrounded by many beautiful, kind and compassionate people. Another huge takeaway is always be kind; its true impact is never fully known.

Huge shout out to my husband, who doesn’t flinch and still looks at me with complete love; to my family, who are my ride or die; and to the staff at Camp Moshava, who have truly gone above and beyond to assist my children through this process. I am beyond grateful that I am now cancer-free and alive.

As horrific as this is, I am acutely aware that this could have been so much worse. My bitachon in Hashem is strengthened and my faith in the goodness of people is confirmed. Thank you!

Are you still here? Article is done. Do you still think this can’t happen to you? Chas v’shalom. I get it, I thought the same thing … until it did.

Michelle Kohn is a clinical psychologist in private practice in Bergenfield. She is married to Daniel Kohn and they have 3 daughters. She is an avid walker around town, loves flowers and Broadway, prioritizes kindness and is a total amateur dancer. She hopes that this article brings real awareness and a commitment to change. She wishes everyone a healthy and safe rest of the summer!