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I know it may seem old to some people but I do not feel old - I am 48 now. Back in 2010 I noticed a mole on my neck that started bleeding when I dried myself with a towel or when it rubbed on my shirt collar. I went to the doctor who said it was probably nothing but he would refer me to a consultant... he forgot and 6 weeks later I rang and chased it and got an appointment in early December 2010 I think it was.
The consultant took one look and said it was malignant melanoma... I was a bit worried...
I am not the kind of person who keeps a blog. I am not the kind of person who freely expresses emotions. I am not the kind of person who shows his feelings easily. With this in mind, I have no idea why I decided to do this, but I hope it will be therapeutic. I am not interested in making it look nice or being easy to read but I do need to somehow get my fears and anger out there in a way that offers me a bit of release and a bit of anonymity at the same time. So I guess that is why; not for sympathy...
What does that make the radiologist? Chief fryer? King of all things butt-kicking!? Cancer Killer Extraordinaire?
I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn't a little apprehensive about my assessment for radiotherapy tomorrow but equally it's another step forward and there is no downside to that so I'm also a little bit excited. I can't imagine it's something I'd want to take up as a hobby but given the choice between staring at it for a bit longer or getting it attacked like a cheap science...
What if it comes back?
I asked, The doctors eyes fell low,
Best not to think about the past,
The future’s where to go...
But what if this lump’s it again,
How do I know we caught it?
He said, best course is to refrain
From thinking more cells bought it.
I need to feel I'll cope next time,
That I’ll spot that its there...
That you won't inject orange slime
And shave off all my hair!
The simple questions annoy you,
And yet there's no solution,
I did the things...
I know I said goodbye. and at the time I meant It. but I can't help myself. maybe It's because on this site we all have one thing In common "Cancer" we all know the shock and horror of being told "I'm sorry you have cancer" we all know the fear. straight away I thought god I'm going to die. telling my daughter's was very hard. one of my daughter's live's In New Zealand she was home within the week having got the mayor of Keri Keri Involved getting her visa rushed through. thankfully I'm fine now...
In the end I managed to get through Monday entirely unscathed and just about hung on for a full 8 hour day at work before going home for a nap (who said napping in your 20s is no good). Hairy kindly offered to cook dinner and I spent the short time I was up sitting next to him on the sofa talking drivel. According to him I beat people with frozen herring; I'm 99% sure that never happened.
I decided I'd tackle the fall out between my lungs and the rest of my body with medication (continued) and...
To not ask how and hope for better,
Arms easier in a buttoned sweater,
To find a hat to go in bed,
And answer doors with covered head,
To eat even when feeling ill,
(An empty stomach’s an acid pill)
To look for bras without a wire,
And hope they’re ones you can admire.
To dress up well on clinic days,
Like it’s a party, a social phase.
To massage scars until they move,
To keep a good tune in the groove.
To not expect to go to plan,
But hope it just might, if it can...
So aside from being 50 shades of crazy last night I think it's all good. I can't get that image out of my head, what a fruit loop but I suppose you can't be good at everything.
I have no idea if HP could tell I'd lost my face to the dark side for several hours while he was out, if he did he did me the kindness of not mentioning it. Bless him, he's the sort of person that doesn't believe in feelings. The idea that you'd acknowledge any sort of weakness in your unwavering faith that everything...
I'm sure it was only a few hours ago I was saying everything was splendid and now you'd think I was an entirely different person. I don't know what's wrong with me. As soon as I stop and I'm left alone, if I let my mind wander for more than 30 seconds I seem to descend into maddening panic. I had gone to bed because I was sick of myself then my friend called me. She's depressed. It's something she battles with and I tried to pay enough attention to be useful. It's not like the world stops turning...
