Two weeks ago I spent a day in hospital having a lentigo maligna removed, a sun-damaged patch caught just before it could turn into skin cancer. Not a mole, though several people assumed it was. Just one of the quiet things that can appear on our skin as we age, the legacy of years spent outdoors without thinking much about it.
It wasn’t a major procedure, but it was still hospital. The waiting. The gown. The gentle professionalism of the nurses. The moment when the doors close behind you and you realise you’re handing yourself over to other people’s care.
I went in alone. That’s simply how life is for many of us now. We manage things ourselves, not because there’s no one who cares, but because we’re used to handling what needs to be handled. There’s a steadiness that comes with that, a kind of later-life competence no one prepares you for.
The team were kind. Efficient, reassuring, and very human. Afterwards I came home, sore and tired, and carried on with the day, slowly, but carried on.
What has stayed with me most is not the procedure itself but the reminder that our bodies keep their own timeline. They age, shift, and change whether we approve or not. And caring for them becomes an act of respect, not vanity.
There’s a quiet dignity in tending to ourselves without fuss. Getting things checked. Following up. Allowing healing to take the time it needs.
Nothing dramatic happened that day, but it marked a small turning point. A reminder to pay attention. To listen when the body speaks. And to keep choosing care over complacency.
About This Reflection
I’ve begun sharing more of the small, real moments that shape my days, the encounters, observations and shifts that often pass unnoticed but say something about how we live, age and pay attention. They’re not polished articles, just honest pieces of writing that track what it feels like to move through later life with curiosity and care. Posting them here means they don’t disappear into the quick churn of social media. They become part of my record, a quieter archive of noticing, reflection and everyday humanity.
