Yesterday I reported to the dermatology office a bit further away to have the surrounding tissue of my biopsy removed. As required as the next step in a malignant melanoma biopsy, they cut half a centimeter around the previous wound (which hadn't healed right, anyway, so I was glad for a new start).
The doctor was very comfortable tearing my leg apart. A buddy came in and they were talking about some new billing methods. I don't know how that would have made YOU feel, but in my head I thought, "Yay! He totally does this every day. I am in good hands." He did apologize for the interruption but I explained it shows his confidence.
We'd had so much discussion about the site I forgot the other reason I was there! I told him I had been sent out his way also because of my mysterious neck growths. My PA was hoping he could treat them there with laser. He peered around to look and exclaimed, "Oh! Wow!" and had his buddy check it out, too. They were intrigued. I think this is how corpses feel when they donate their bodies to science: "Yay! I knew it! I AM special!"
I had gone to the appointment and the whole way back listening to "Til the End" by Jeremy Camp on repeat. Lovely, eternal message that could give anyone courage in practically any situation. He had led our worship service this weekend and for some reason, the depth of his pain and his story resonated with me. I have not lost a spouse to cancer but I can weep with him at the misery I imagine one could have. Because....
In the time and space between last appointment and this one, I have planned the start, middle, and end of my funeral. This includes details such as:
- the playlist to be played on rolling speakers for its 1 mile fun run and walk
- the ice cream company that will have an ice cream truck at the end of the run/walk (for some reason this funeral will be in the summer?)
It's terrible. These thoughts don't quit. I know anyone could die at any time. We are not promised the next breath. But there's a difference between that knowledge and the knowledge that something cancerous has been growing on you and pursuing your life aggressively.
I share the thoughts so that you know how much support people with cancer need - like, cancer going on NOW (this is just my BRUSH with it!). The mind is its own battlefield.
The doctor assuaged my fears. I did not mention them to him, I simply asked about melanoma. He said the way it grows is OUT OUT OUT and THEN down. It's the down part, the reaching down, that makes it invasive. Mine was superficial, like in the top 0 mm of my skin! So I was probably okay, but he had to go AROUND the site wound to ensure it had not grown OUT anymore.
I relaxed and breathed then. So I was not going to die of this wound.
This gash - it's about 6 inches long. It ACHES today. I'm on my couch and my daughter is wheeling me around in my office chair! Almost hilarious if I weren't petrified the ladder of stitches was going to tear.
And Uzzie buddies - I know you feel my pain when I say I heard the UPS truck roll up my driveway and drop off my books and I couldn't go get them! AHHHH!!! [The kids felt special when I asked them to get them though - that's a bright side].
This gash. I've decided I'm going to tell everyone I got it in Iraq. I mean, I could have gotten skin issues there, right? I did lay out on a bunker once or twice. I DID swim in Baghdad palace lakes and I assure you I didn't use sunblock then. I was only out 3 times without my full uniform on so maybe it *did* grow then.
Otherwise, I truly can't remember a time I was out in the sun without sunblock. And saying "I got it in Iraq" makes me sound like a badass.
I get the results back within a week. Here's hoping the melanoma had found a stopping point.
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The doctor was very comfortable tearing my leg apart. A buddy came in and they were talking about some new billing methods. I don't know how that would have made YOU feel, but in my head I thought, "Yay! He totally does this every day. I am in good hands." He did apologize for the interruption but I explained it shows his confidence.
We'd had so much discussion about the site I forgot the other reason I was there! I told him I had been sent out his way also because of my mysterious neck growths. My PA was hoping he could treat them there with laser. He peered around to look and exclaimed, "Oh! Wow!" and had his buddy check it out, too. They were intrigued. I think this is how corpses feel when they donate their bodies to science: "Yay! I knew it! I AM special!"
I had gone to the appointment and the whole way back listening to "Til the End" by Jeremy Camp on repeat. Lovely, eternal message that could give anyone courage in practically any situation. He had led our worship service this weekend and for some reason, the depth of his pain and his story resonated with me. I have not lost a spouse to cancer but I can weep with him at the misery I imagine one could have. Because....
In the time and space between last appointment and this one, I have planned the start, middle, and end of my funeral. This includes details such as:
- the playlist to be played on rolling speakers for its 1 mile fun run and walk
- the ice cream company that will have an ice cream truck at the end of the run/walk (for some reason this funeral will be in the summer?)
It's terrible. These thoughts don't quit. I know anyone could die at any time. We are not promised the next breath. But there's a difference between that knowledge and the knowledge that something cancerous has been growing on you and pursuing your life aggressively.
I share the thoughts so that you know how much support people with cancer need - like, cancer going on NOW (this is just my BRUSH with it!). The mind is its own battlefield.
The doctor assuaged my fears. I did not mention them to him, I simply asked about melanoma. He said the way it grows is OUT OUT OUT and THEN down. It's the down part, the reaching down, that makes it invasive. Mine was superficial, like in the top 0 mm of my skin! So I was probably okay, but he had to go AROUND the site wound to ensure it had not grown OUT anymore.
I relaxed and breathed then. So I was not going to die of this wound.
This gash - it's about 6 inches long. It ACHES today. I'm on my couch and my daughter is wheeling me around in my office chair! Almost hilarious if I weren't petrified the ladder of stitches was going to tear.
And Uzzie buddies - I know you feel my pain when I say I heard the UPS truck roll up my driveway and drop off my books and I couldn't go get them! AHHHH!!! [The kids felt special when I asked them to get them though - that's a bright side].
This gash. I've decided I'm going to tell everyone I got it in Iraq. I mean, I could have gotten skin issues there, right? I did lay out on a bunker once or twice. I DID swim in Baghdad palace lakes and I assure you I didn't use sunblock then. I was only out 3 times without my full uniform on so maybe it *did* grow then.
Otherwise, I truly can't remember a time I was out in the sun without sunblock. And saying "I got it in Iraq" makes me sound like a badass.
I get the results back within a week. Here's hoping the melanoma had found a stopping point.
-