The Brave and the Kind

I've written recently about my husband's tireless perseverance and passion for filmmaking. Luckily, he's also pretty damn good at it. Not only do I think so, our friends and family think so, but IndiePix Films - an online film distribution company setting the tone for innovative marketing and distribution - thinks so, too. Which is why they've agreed to fully fund and market John's next feature film, The Brave and the Kind.

It's been an exciting couple of months for us... first with the distribution deal for John's first feature, EVERY GOOD THING to RUST. John immediately connected with Jason Tyrell, IndiePix's Film Submission Coordinator, who was eager to extend the company arm into producing. Through Jason, the concept for The Brave and the Kind was born.

To be shot throughout the next 2 1/2 months, The Brave and the Kind is an alternative biopic, with characters that are all based on - and some played by - real people. And not just any people, but us. That is, me, John, and his family. The main character is John Yost, a filmmaker trying to find direction in his life. And while the script runs parallel to our real life, it veers down a completely different path, "wondering" aloud how our lives would be impacted by major life-changing events.

When John first began working on the script with our buddy Randall Meehl, he asked, "So when are we going to make a movie that's not about you?" Yes, it's true... John's senior thesis film, Johnny, was a similar, but more surreal, musical (there was no dialog at all) version The Brave and the Kind, and RUST was based on John and his buddies during an imaginary catastrophic event. But answering Randall's question, John says that this is the last time - he's done "exploring" himself, and is considering adapting a book if there is another film.

So all of this excitement is subdued right now, as we're both distracted by the colossal amount of work before us. The official film website, which will parallel the production of the film in the same way the script parallels our life, through diary entries and behind the scenes videos, launched earlier this week, with an official announcement scheduled after the Memorial Day weekend.


John with actor Ethan Weiss, who will be playing him in the film. A still shot from the first behind the scenes video. Watch the full video here.

While the shooting schedule is finalized and the timeline becomes clear, IndiePix is laboring over finding sponsors and growing the online life of the project. Sitting back and watching it all unfold, I am strangely calm about it all. We both, of course, hope for success. For John, that means the chance to find a broader audience and make another film with an even bigger budget. For me, that means watching my husband do what he loves and get the recognition he deserves. For both of us, it might mean skyrocketing us towards what we've always wanted: to be free from our burdens of debt, free to continue doing what we love on our own terms, free to go where we please.

But, we're keeping level heads about it all. The potential is there, certainly, and we both realize what a tremendous opportunity has been planted at our feet. Now it's just time to take the ball and run with it... no matter what happens, it's an adventure that we can only benefit from. I'll keep you posted...

Wedded Bliss*

"Moderation is key." "Balance is everything."

I've heard these little phrases throughout my life, and almost daily I find new applications to their wisdom. Too many cups of coffee and I'm uptight, anxious, stressed. Not enough and I'm a spacey slug. Too much work equals exhaustion, despondence. And too much play creates a disconnect, a lack of appreciation.

Not that I claim to be a relationship expert, but in my seven-and-counting years with my husband John, balance has been the single most important ingredient to our mutual content.

Interestingly, I think relationships of any kind begin with a certain level of selfishness. We want something outside of ourselves to bring us happiness that we cannot attain alone. Even if we feel solid in our own independence, we know somewhere inside that fulfillment must come from an external source. Eager and vulnerable, we seek love and acceptance from others, all the while trying - with varying success - to give it back. We all have friends, I'm sure, that demonstrate varying levels of selfishness in their relationship approach: on one end, the friend that gives and gives almost to their own detriment, never expecting anything in return; on the other end, the friend that - whether intentionally or not - only seems to surface when a need is to be fulfilled, prefers to talk rather than listen.

In any healthy relationship - and especially marriage - a healthy combination of the two is required. One must recognize when to listen, when to vent. When to be a provider, when to let the other be a rock. When to be present, when to allow space.

Since I've grown into an "adult," left home, and found my way, I have occasionally thought back to my young daydreams about marriage and relationships - seeds of idealism and fantasy surely planted by Seventeen and Teen magazines, not to mention the always-available slew of romantic comedies and sitcoms.

The Media seem to paint marriage, for young girls especially, as the apex of life's successes. With the exception of newer trends in media toward the dysfunction of marriage and the uber-cool single hipster lifestyle, Marriage is portrayed as the beginning and end of everything. It is what a girl yearns for her entire young life, thus justifying exorbitant spending on ceremonial absurdities.

And after the wedding? Few films show the truth about what happens after the confetti's been swept and the honeymoon is over. Anyone married will tell you: absolutely nothing. Yes, despite the supposed magic and lucid fantasies, you and your new spouse are exactly the same people after you enter into marriage, now only bound in a legal and spiritual commitment.

Fortunately for me, I figured this out before I tied the knot. In my vows I wrote, "I love you exactly as you are, right now, standing in front of me." I meant it, and today it's still true. John and I entered into marriage with no expectations other than to continue to be together.

Finding the balance in any relationship obviously takes work... honest, open communication (you've heard that one before, I'm sure!), a willingness to listen and grow, and a sincere, deep passion for each other are what help keep the balance in check.

Expectations are the biggest killer of any solid relationship... when we feel we must do something or that we are supposed to do something, real human desire is ignored and replaced with cold obligation. Squashing expectations has been one of the biggest joys of my married life: no, we don't have to have children - ever, even - if we don't want to. No, we don't have to settle down and buy a house. No, we don't have to buy each other meaningless material things on holidays and birthdays just because we're supposed to.

Instead, we try to live our marriage with soulful spontaneity, following our hearts rather than any prescribed pathways, always trying to see when desire is being swayed by obligation.

The joy that comes from doing what you love rather than what you think you should love radiates, and is contagious. My in-laws live this lifestyle whole-heartedly; they will drop everything to take a spontaneous trip, call in sick, sleep in the back of their van if they have to, and never complain when their own decisions make them a little uncomfortable. Their passion for life and each other is infectious and inspiring.

When one becomes two, it is even more important to approach life with flexibility, open-mindedness, and rigor. Expectations only bring disappointment, and ignoring your heart can spawn inner grief hollowness.

My advice (not that anyone asked) is to live wholly, honestly, and allow relationships room to grow. For John and I, it's worked beautifully; I feel content in my individual self, supported in my ever-evolving marriage, and a peace that can only come from pure, unconditional love.

* Bliss is a delusion. From balance comes peace and happiness.

An extremely uncreative but much-needed update

Spring is finally here... and with the radiant sunshine has come the anticipation of summer, the antsy excitement of life blooming and hope gleaming. Forgive the sap, but I am just sparkling with energy these days.

And in true Yost-Wright fashion (we are indeed an energetic team), the next 5 months are pretty much booked solid with weddings, parties, weekend trips, film shoots and concerts. The whirlwind has already begun...

Last Weekend
We scooted off early Friday afternoon towards Rochester, NY, where my parents live and where my little sister, Natalie, was visiting for the weekend. She'd flown up from Pensacola, FL where she is stationed as an Occupational Therapist for the US Navy. With her she brought her new son and my adorable little nephew, Gavin, as well as her fiancée, Mike to tie up the loose ends for their upcoming September wedding.







I had told her I wasn't able to come... so it was a sweet surprise when we rolled in Friday night. The weekend was fast but fun, with a girls-only shopping trip on Saturday afternoon and a mini-bachelorette party Saturday night at the local bar. My gram, aunts, and cousins all came out and we owned the place... the entire night was spent flinging ourselves around the dancefloor to early 90's dance-pop. We didn't leave town without Greek omelets at the Village House restaurant on Sunday morning...

Mid-Week NYC Romp
And in movie news... John's feature film EVERY GOOD THING to RUST premiered in New York on Wednesday evening as part of the NewFilmmakers series at the Anthology Film Archives. I took a couple personal days and we headed down for a night on the town... Meeting up first at IndiePix, the company currently distributing the film, and then I slipped into my heels for the movie night (note: Manhattan is NOT the best place to break in new heels...).

It was a night of reunions with friends showing up that we hadn't seen in years... after the screening we announced the next feature film, The Brave and the Kind, which is being produced and funded completely by IndiePix, then gathered at the Telephone Bar to reconnect with old pals. What a night! We closed down the bar at 2am, then headed to Brooklyn where we stayed and closed down another bar at 4am, before heading to our friend Katie's apartment for snacks and Wii (well, some of us crashed at that point...)

We didn't leave unscathed however, as we picked up a nice $65 parking ticket... New York never fails to remind us on every return visit why we chose to leave...

Salem, Mass
Friday night after work we packed up the car yet again and printed up our Google directions to Martha and Dougie's place in Salem, Massachusetts. First, though, we stopped briefly en route in Albany for the Albany Center Gallery's yearly Photo Regional, where John's "Stumps" piece was on display. After shooting the shit with some Skidmore professors that happened to be there and downing some red wine, we jumped on the Mass Pike and made it to Salem by 10PM.

We hadn't seen Martha and Doug since they lived out in the middle of nowhere in Maine 2 years ago, but since Martha scored a kick-ass job as the Director of New Media for the Peabody Essex Museum, they've moved back home for another adventure. Star chef Doug took no time moving to the top. After only four months in the area, he starts next week at Grill 23, one of Boston's premiere steakhouses.

The weekend was a blur of rain, wet dogs, red wine, cozy blankets, dancing, candlelight, delicious food, and oodles and oodles of great conversation. Hanging out with those two never fails to be spontaneous and wonderful, and we left today with hugs and promises to not let another two years pass before we do it again.

Next Weekend
The whirlwind continues as friends Dustin and Stacey come to town. We're headed up to Indian Lake for the weekend where we've rented a cabin and plan on canoing, BBQing, bonfire-ing, and more. And knowing Dustin, Keystone Ice is sure to be involved. Ahhh, life is good.

Now
Time to breathe, time to work. Got lots to do to make up for all the fun, and as I like to say: work hard, play hard. Cheers.

An Ode to Hindsight

I may only be 26 years old, but I already can see glimpses of the transforming perspective that comes with age. I've heard many older adults talk about it... the patterns, pathways, and little evolutions that become visible as time goes on.

What I've been tuning into these past few years is intuition. Some may call it "women's intuition." Others just "going with your gut." But whatever you want to call it, there are gentle nudges and tiny beams of revelation that peek out from inside my conscious and make themselves known. I have no idea where it comes from - similar to the creative process that happens when I am designing a website or print layout - something just surfaces and makes sense.

Intuition might also be called a self-conscience. A quiet whisper or a little poke that you're doing the right thing, going the right way... or the opposite. Having the gift of hindsight, I can recognize the moments when I've ignored my intuition, only to find later on that my first instincts were correct.

But it takes time and clarity of thought to listen and learn from intuition. It's like trying to dial in to a fuzzy radio station; sometimes you can't just turn the knob, you have to mess with the antenna, change your position, or move the stereo itself. Early on, intuition can send mixed signals, and making a decision is like stabbing into the dark.

The perfect example of this in my experience happened in late 2004. John and I spent six months after his college graduation living and working at the International Film Workshops in Rockport, Maine. We had a fabulous summer and because our student loans were on deferment, we were able to save a large portion of our earnings. We'd decided when we first took the jobs - which were temporary six-month positions - that afterwards we would take our savings and move to New York to pursue our careers in film.

Our six months was nearing its end in October, and we began looking for jobs and apartments in Brooklyn, where many of our college friends had moved. We spent almost a month digging through Craigslist, sending friends to scout out apartments, until eventually we found something that would work for us and began the application process. After two weeks of emails, faxes, acquiring co-signers, and filling out paperwork, we were denied the apartment! Stunned and angry, now with only a few weeks before our jobs and lease in Maine would end, we didn't know what to do. We felt burned by the city and took it as a sign: we weren't meant to go.

If I was in tune with my intuition then, I might have tried to extend my position and lease in Maine. I might have kept looking for an apartment in the city. I'm not really sure. But what I wouldn't have done is what we did do: within a week of being denied the NYC apartment we decided instead to move to Austin, Texas.

Blinded by our frustration with NYC, we decided to take a completely different and drastic route. We took our savings, arranged a sublet near the University of Texas, and a week later, we packed up our pickup truck and started driving. It wasn't until we arrived that we realized the miscalculations of our hasty decision: despite having a nickname of the "Third Coast" for film production (after LA and NYC), the job market in Austin was scarce. We were told by neighbors almost immediately upon arrival that Austin had the highest ratio in the country of PHD holders working as waitstaff. We also learned that we had mistakenly found an apartment in the most expensive area of the city. Not a smart move.

Five weeks later we were broke, lonely, with zero job prospects and wounded egos. Despite how much we enjoyed Austin, we re-packed the truck and headed back home.

In retrospect, my intuition told me from the beginning that Austin was a gamble. I chose to ignore the feeling of uncertainty in my gut, never admitting its existence until we fully realized our mistake. But while I know that today I'd make a different decision, I don't regret those five weeks for a second. A whirlwind of self-evaluation and soul-searching, our brief stint in Texas was a priceless learning experience. Not to mention the lingering memory of unmatched Tex-Mex!

But being young(er) and choosing to ignore my gut, I was riskier and perhaps, some might say, a little daft. I hadn't quite come to embrace the power of that little twinge of guidance that, at the time, mimicked a concerned parent.

The older and (hopefully) wiser I get, the more I appreciate the voice of insight that comes when needed. Tuning in and considering all perspectives seems to provide a sounder base for decision-making as well as a clarity of consequence. I hope that one day I can look back and connect the dots - wholly confident in my presence and contented by the paths I've chosen, knowing fully that somehow I knew it all along.

Actions speak louder

I was psyched today when I noticed that someone turned the lights out at Google: http://www.google.com/intl/en/earthhour/.

Have you seen this? The traditional all-white Google homepage is now all black. But for one day only - today - to garner participation in Earth Hour. Tonight, from 8pm til 9pm in your respective timezone, people will be turning their lights out - literally. In an effort to raise awareness of climate change and encourage human beings throughout the planet to reduce energy, cities across the world are participating by powering down tonight for 1 hour.

Earth Day is soon approaching, too, and I can't help but be excited and optimistic about these moments of reflection and realization that as the planet's only species capable of building up cities and mining resources, we can also care for the planet that gives us life.

Yet lately, I've been in situations where I've overheard other people scoff at the notion of Global Warming. I've listened to others proclaim it as a hoax. I've argued with my own father about how it's a scam to get us to purchase expensive hybrid cars and funky lightbulbs.

But really? I'm confused. I've been quiet about this subject for long enough and the time has come for me to say what I've been thinking all along: Who cares!?

Yes, really, I mean it - who gives a shit whether Global Warming is a hoax, or a scam, or a lie. I'll refrain here, of course, from asking the burning question on my mind - WHAT do the bad-guy-liars and scamming scientists have to gain from this "hoax"? Because clearly, getting people to think about the planet and take care of it by providing facts about glacial melting and changing climates across the world must indeed have some sinister motivation behind it.

Instead, I ask what does it matter if Global Warming isn't true? What does it matter if the scientists' findings are wrong? Perhaps this is indeed just a natural cycle that occurs every so many years and perhaps Earth is indeed more powerful than us and can heal itself. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

But to get to my point: even if it isn't true, what harm can it do to care for the planet? What is so horrible about reducing our carbon emissions? Being less wasteful and more mindful of our impact? Choosing to support companies and products that preserve the Earth and care for the following generations?

Or could it be that we're too lazy and too comfortable? It's a lot easier to proclaim that something is "bullshit" than it is to actually make a change in your life - to actually make some sacrifices.

I don't know if Global Warming is real or not. I've heard shouting on both sides of the argument that is equally loud and equally valid. But regardless of who is right, protecting the environment and treating our planet with the utmost respect can only improve our life here for ourselves and every generation to come!

So rather than choosing a side, rather than standing on a soapbox and shouting about which study says this and which study says that, why don't we all just shut the hell up and start taking some action? We all know what we can do to reduce our own impact on the planet, and there is mountains of info out there to help point you in the right direction.

If we all take some responsibility to be nicer to each other and this world we all have to share, then I truly believe we can prevent any major catastrophes that may or may not happen. And either way, we'll create a beautiful, cleaner Earth to call home.

Honestly... how can that be a bad thing?

Out like a lamb

This month has been tough. Bitter cold days, limited sunshine, and stress mounting in all areas of life. John and I have been caught in the thick of it... stuck indoors, drinking too much, whining too much, frustrated with being broke and having to once again defer one of our mounting student loans. Well, you know what they say about March, though, right? In like a lion...

The tables finally feel like they're turning for us. All of the hard work is finally paying off.

Today John had a much-anticipated meeting in New York with an online distribution company. For a few months now, John's been discussing the idea of a second feature that would be marketed completely online, with a pre-production blog allowing visitors to follow along with the making of the film. Shortly after lunchtime John called me at work, his voice lighter and more optimistic than I've heard in quite some time.

"We're making a movie!!!" he proclaimed.

Exhale... spring is coming after all! I've been on air all afternoon, excited about what this means for my hard-working husband who pours every ounce of himself into his projects and has never really been rewarded with all that much interest, let alone money. But this time will be different. Not only is he supported with dollars, this company is also going to completely market the film, distribute the film, and generate buzz and interest online. Woohoo!

I am so proud of John Yost. He hasn't stopped working since the day we met... I remember it clearly: he was a Freshman in film school, determined to make the biggest and best production the Freshman class had ever seen! His older friends helped him acquire the equipment he wasn't supposed to have, and at screenings his "epic" showed more effort and technical skill than any Freshman project before it. He hasn't stopped since. Producing a film - or two - every year thereafter, my relationship with John has been synonymous with my relationship with John's projects.

In 2002, John spent a week in Norman, Oklahoma attempting to chase tornadoes with a team of scientists and a video camera. The following year he shot 8 films, including his own called "Johnny", completing his BFA with an emphasis in Cinematography. We road-tripped in 2003, bringing a Bolex, 16mm film, and a car mount, shooting vast landscapes out west. After graduating, John used the gear available to us at the Maine Workshops to produce "Fog," and later borrowed another Bolex to begin documenting friends for "Motion Portrait Film." Scattered in between, a variety of photo experiments and series', including the ongoing "Stumps," the Shining-inspired "Crooked Lake House," and Crewdson-esce "House."

It wasn't until late 2006 that John decided he wouldn't be able to rest until he made a feature film, and weeks later - literally - began production of EVERY GOOD THING to RUST. It was unclear, even after the film's premiere, whether or not it would garner any serious attention or lead to anything else. And John was ready to put down the camera for awhile, having satisfied his feature-bug.

And now this.

March has been especially tough on John, who's been living this new film every day - thinking about it, talking about it, writing it, editing it... all with no idea if it would ever come to be. I've always believed that someday other people would notice how talented and dedicated John Yost is to his work. He is the embodiment of a true artist - committed solely to his craft, driven by his passion for his work, and not distracted by the hordes of wannabes in the film and art world. John doesn't want to be the idea of an artist; John just is one.

Congratulations, honey!


Video documenting our honeymoon in Greece; ATV-ing around the island of Santorini.

Keep checking www.thebraveandthekind.com for more information on the upcoming movie. It will officially be announced in late April, 2008.

Second Opinions

I'm looking for advice here. Though, I can't promise I'm going to take it.

All of this started last spring. I was sitting in the waiting room at the dentist reading some lousy women's magazine - I think it was Elle - when I stumbled on an article about skin cancer. It was loaded with product plugs and the overall tone was a fearful one: anyone can get skin cancer - anyone!... so be afraid, go to your dermatologist, buy the fifteen-dollar sunscreen. I was completely aware at the article's intent, but having a friend - younger than I - who recently was diagnosed and had to have skin grafts on her face - well, I was, on some subconscious level, affected by it.

I should also note that I have a host of other minor skin ailments - mild breakouts on my face, eczema, and annoyingly sensitive skin. So at my annual physical I decided to ask my doctor to take a look at my skin. Was a skin cancer screening necessary just to be safe... or was I being silly? I've gotten some severe sunburns throughout my life, have fair skin and a nice shower of freckles. He took one look at my speckled shoulders and said, "It wouldn't hurt to see a dermatologist."

Months later my appointment with an apparently-popular dermatologist finally arrived. I was excited to finally get some answers and peace of mind. However, after making my way past the assortment of product posters on the walls and sitting in a smock for 15 minutes, I was given a quick 3-minute scan and assured I was fine. She barely made eye-contact with me.

"But what about my face... the blackheads..." I attempted to stall her robotic routine.

She peered at my forehead, "Oh... I think a little Retin-A would clear that right up. I'll give you a prescription and some samples."

I couldn't think of a response, and she was so quick - so uninterested in what I had to say - that I never did think of one until I left that evening, tossing the prescription slips and samples in the trash: What can I do naturally?... What can I eat? Can I take certain vitamins? Is a prescription really necessary for a few little whiteheads?

The questions kept streaming in, and months and months after the appointment I became more and more irritated with the insincerity of that brief encounter with a dermatologist. My skin continued to fluctuate between acne and eczema breakouts, and I became convinced that I needed a second opinion.

In January I had my second appointment with a dermatologist, and while they were not quite as obvious, all the signs of a formulaic business were there. The posters for botox and other magically beautifying products plastered the walls, the check-in-check-out windows reminiscent of a Dunkin Donuts queue, the waiting, waiting, waiting alone in a cold room for 20 minutes in a paper gown.

This time I was prepared: I didn't want a prescription - I wanted advice. I had particular spots that I wanted checked out. I was ready. The doctor came in and was much nicer than the first, but brought with her a PA, armed with laptop and digital camera. I showed her my complexion, slightly mottled by whiteheads.

"Oh..." she said, squinting to see them. "I would recommend some Retin-A..." and off she went on the schpeal about applying the prescription every night before bed...

"But I would prefer not to have a prescription if necessary," I interrupted, "Isn't there anything natural that I can do? Certain things I can eat? Vitamins I should be taking? Cleansers I could use?"

She looked mildly annoyed and ignored most of my questions, choosing to answer the only one that involved me purchasing something. "We have a great line of skin care products that might help..." In seconds there was a brochure in my hand with a photo of a beautiful, blemish-free woman on the front and some scientific, French name. "We can get you some free samples."

She proceeded to check out my freckles and the spots, growing concerned at a particular tiny red spot on my chest. Leaning in close, she summoned her assistant with the camera. "Hmmm. That one looks strange. Could be basal cell carcinoma..." She went on to explain that basal cell was a very-treatable, non-life-threatening, very common form of skin cancer. Caught early, it was absolutely nothing to be concerned about. But they needed to slice a tiny piece of it and have it biopsied to be sure.

Hmph. Skin cancer? Biopsy? I grew worried just at the words. She was prepared for my face of concern, and reiterated that it was nothing to lose sleep over.

A month later I returned, butterflies in my stomach, for the biopsy. I am terrified of needles and all things medical, and I told the nurse as much as she numbed the area and removed part of my tiny spot. "You'll get a letter in 7-10 days with the results," she explained. "If you don't hear from us in two weeks, please call."

Um, ok. So a letter. I left the office feeling slightly nauseous, afraid to peek under the band-aid until later that night. When I finally did, I was surprised to see she had removed a chunk of skin larger than the spot itself - but only half of the spot itself. Why didn't she just remove the whole thing? I thought.

So I waited. And waited. Two weeks went by without my realizing, then last week - finally - I got a letter. "The results of your skin biopsy showed an atypical mole. There is no cause for alarm, however, this lesion will require further excision... we have scheduled your excision for April 3rd...."

What? An atypical mole? Further excision? Another procedure? They must be kidding... this "lesion" was no bigger than a chiclet! First I was scared. Then I was irritated. Then I was angry.

I researched atypical moles online and discovered that 1 in 10 people have one but they are considered "precancerous." Some doctors think that there is a slight chance that an atypical mole can turn into melanoma - a potentially deadly form of skin cancer. But statistics I found online say that it's highly unlikely - and melanoma can form from anything. Furthermore, atypical moles are only of concern when they change. If they grow bigger, change pigment, or morph in any way, then there is real cause for concern.

I called the office and told the nurse I thought the procedure was excessive, was overkill. Why didn't they just remove the thing to begin with? Why couldn't I just keep an eye on it? She couldn't give me a very good reason why they hadn't removed it already, but explained that this was a better-safe-than-sorry procedure. Yes, it was unlikely that my atypical mole would turn into anything... but, she had seen atypical moles turn into melanoma before.

I didn't cancel my appointment. Yet. But I've been researching it and talking about it with different people. My sister, who is an occupational therapist and knows her stuff when it comes to medicine, is equally torn: is it really necessary to have such a tiny, easy-to-monitor and most-likely-insignificant spot removed... just because it might turn into something? Or are they just trying to get more insurance money out of me for an unnecessary procedure?

I'm not sure. But next week I'm going to cancel my appointment and attempt to find a homeopathic doctor for an alternative opinion.

My overall feeling about the whole thing? In a health care system driven by money, we have to be incredibly cautious and aware of what "doctors" proclaim. If the signs are there - say, purposefully placed cabinets full of expensive, well-designed skin creams with brochures and posters in the examination room - we have to pay attention. The mere fact that this doctor would not offer me any advice or answers that didn't involve another appointment, a prescription, or a purchase at her spa next door (no kidding), has me thinking. The inhumanness of a letter to inform me of my results and already-scheduled appointment (it was clearly a form letter, with certain parts filled in from a computer database). The dividing of all procedures into as many appointments as possible.

All of it put up red flags for me, and while in the past I might easily be swayed by fear-tactics, I'm trying to use my head here. I'm not going to start lopping off every abnormal spot on my body because it might, maybe, someday turn into something. Instead, I want to know what I can do now - on my own - to keep my body whole, strong, and healing itself. A preventative approach, a holistic approach, a human approach.

If anyone has any thoughts, similar experiences, or recommendations for a third opinion, it is much appreciated.