Poor boy.

A few minutes after Dallin was born I noticed a small light brown mole on his head. This winter it started changing. It grew, turned black, got a little bumpy, and a smaller black dot grew next to the other one. After consulting three doctors they all agreed it should come off because it met all four criteria for skin cancer. Today was the day.

Dallin was so happy to play checkers in the waiting room.

The mole, isn't it tiny?


We chose to have Embree's plastic surgeon, Dr McGill do the surgery. He asked if we could go to other hospital in town, not the bigger one we always go to. We were not very happy with them. You can tell they don't see a lot of children there.

Dallin requested that I go in with him.

All doped up. When I placed him on the operating table I told him to be Darth Vader (breath into the mask) he giggled for a second and was out. The anesthesiologist, a nurse, and I all said at the exact same time "boy, that was fast"!

He didn't wake up so well, he was VERY agitated. It sucks to see your kids freaking out and you can't help them. Sean talked to Dr McGill over the phone in the waiting room, when he hung up he said he could here Dallin screaming. I had to ask if they'd let us back there RIGHT NOW, duh!? More really annoying things happened. But finally we got to go home. He kept screaming 'I want to see my sisters!'.

At home on the couch, a little sad still.

Post Wal Mart trip to get his new Light Saber. That made him feel much better! Next Thursday he gets his stitches out and we get the path reports back.