About six months ago, I was referred to a dermatologist by my primary care physician because of a strange and sudden change in a toenail. He didn't think it was alarming, but out of an abundance of caution, he felt they should take a sample for a biopsy. It was close to two months before I could get in. While I was there I was told I should get a full body examination because of my history. I had an encounter with melanoma about ten years ago. The prevailing wisdom at the time was to be examined annually for three years then every three years then not to worry after five years. The doctor informed me times had changed and it's now annually for life if you've had a case of melanoma. So even though I was reluctant feeling it was unnecessary, I dutifully made an appointment that was three months out.
Two weeks ago I had the appointment and while checking me over, she found a concerning mole on the back of my thigh. The biopsy came back a week later. It's melanoma, again. Surgery is scheduled a month from the initial discovery. I was unaware of its presence, and it would have continued to grow larger and deeper. I hadn't been to a dermatologist for five years and wouldn't have if my toenail hadn't presented strangely, which turned out to be a hemorrhage under my toenail. Nothing more. Nothing sinister.
As a child and a teen, everyone wanted a tan. Especially very fair-skinned girls like me. There was no such thing as sunscreen. It was the rage to get a Coppertone tan or use baby oil. I burned, blistered, and peeled every summer. Repeatedly. I never got a tan, but I did get sun sickness sometimes and would be on fire from the second-degree burns. But no one gave a thought to the long-term effects of spending unprotected time in a swimsuit in the sun at a swimming pool.
Fast forward over fifty years from those teenage days and now I've had a deadly cancer twice, just caught in time before it hit my lymph system. I can't help but wonder if there will be more times for me. I remember being very scared with the first one. I remember praying I wouldn't die of cancer. Yet, right now, I'm strangely blank. It's like there's nothing there, it's all a dream and not really happening to me. Even writing this post is hard. My emotions are just flat. Most of what I write is inspired by passions.
I don't understand my response. I do understand the stupidity of my youth has come around to bite. We all live with regrets. Some cause emotional upheavals or limit our job prospects. Some cause financial struggles, and some are relationship destroyers. And some are potentially deadly.
Being told you have any kind of cancer is jarring, and frightening. Especially if it's at an advanced stage. To all who have cancer, I understand. I may be numb right now, but I do understand the fear and the wanting to stick your head in the sand. But also to want to beat it. To all of you cancer survivors, you are to be admired for having fought and done all you needed to do to live. Some cancers are more dangerous than others. I know breast cancer survivors and I know those who died of cancer, including my beloved brother-in-law. It cares not who you are.
So prayers are appreciated, as are donations to the very worthwhile organization American Cancer Society. https://www.cancer.org/
And, please, go see a dermatologist.
No comments:
Post a Comment