July 18. Day 199. Saving Face

My father was a man before his time. In an era where it was still highly regarded to be a bronzed Aussie, Dad keep us out of the heat of the sun.
I remember many a beach holiday when we were only allowed to hit the sand before 10am and after 3pm. The rest of the holidaymakers packed surf to cool off in the heat of the day, but not us. We were inside hot and bothered.
Of course I now know that this philosophy doubtless went a long way to save my face in what is the skin cancer capital of the world.
(In fact I suspect it was more about saving Dad's own face because admitting to not liking sun, sand and surf is positively unAustralian).
However, whatever the reason I have Dad to thank for the fact that today's visit to the skin specialist involved only the removal of a small basal-cell carcinoma which in skin cancer terms is dodging a bullet.
A small incision, a couple of stitches and a small scar on my chest and I'm good to go. The hole in the wallet is the biggest pain.
Procedure over, I walked down to the Paddington skate park but there was no-one there (I suspect it was too early for skaters to be out of bed).
But this smiling face, victory symbol and slight skin damage seemed to sum up today perfectly.