Almost Melanoma

I am writing this post for a couple different reasons. One, I want to remember (though it will be hard to forget). And two, if I could convinve one person to get checked, "airing my laundry" will have been worth it.

I don't usually write super personal things on my blog-I don't know why-guess just cause I think some things are personal and sometimes we should be a little "boundaried" with information. But this is also like my kids "baby book" and documenting important things that have happened in our life. And as you read, I beg you to not think that I am in any way comparing myself in any way to anyone who has cancer. This was my experience, and for it-I am grateful.

A couple months ago I noticed a "spot" on my lower abdomen. I ignored it-who knows how long it had been there-showed up sometime after having Reese. I am a freckly/molely type of girl-I am a redhead, just comes with the territory. This one looked different, and I ignored it-like anything else you do, when your life is too busy with all of the other things piled on your plate. But then, my attention started being drawn to it-over and over. It was a different color and shape, but still pretty small. So I did what any over paranoid person does and searched on the internet. It looked similar to others, but not exactly the same. I woke up Kris at 1:30am and made him look at it-he was completely out of it and wasn't much help at the time and told me to stop looking on the internet, that we'd talk about it tomorrow.

I blew it off and went to a dance recital of one of the girls I work with at church. Her Mom had been talking about how she just went to the dermatologist, and my other friend I was with was talking about how Melanoma runs in her family (starting to be paranoid). That night I was looking at a blog I like, and the lady developed Melanoma while she was pregnant (getting more paranoid). I talked to Kris and we decided I should get it checked out-just in case. I couldn't find a dermatologist who had an opening within the next two months at least, and the "top rated" ones weren't available until end of Summer. Then I remembered my neighbor works at a derm office (paranoid strike 3) and I called her up, and she got me in the next week. I went in and got "checked out"-I get super embarrassed about such things- by the way- and it didn't help that it was on the flabbiest part of my stretch marked abdomen. He said something like, "It looks a bit abnormal, but not cancerous-we'll do a biopsy just in case-but it's no big deal." Relief......until that Friday.

Friday I get a message at 3pm to call back as soon as I can, and by the way-they close at 4:30pm. I stalked the nursing line, and after getting chastized a bit for leaving messages and continuing to call she looks up my file and says, "Oh." and in a whirlwind I hear the urgency in her voice saying things like, "Severe atypia cells......if I would have waited any longer it would've turned into Melanoma.....need to get it out immediately.......this is urgent.....we need to get you in as soon as possible...." The tears started to come and I choked them down and asked her to slow down because she was freaking me out. The nurse then started to back peadal a bit, but the damage was done and I got her point. I made and appointement for the Friday before camp, and had a week to wonder.

I tend to compartmentalize strong emotions. Some things are too hard to think about/deal with in the moment-so I put them aside and get on with my life. It works well when you have two small children and endless lists that need to be finished to distract you. But late at night, when everyone has gone to bed, there is nothing on the TV, you've googled everything imagineable, there you are. And the question that was the most haunting was, "Will my kids remember me?" "Will they know and remember how much I love them?" And after I had a good solid cry, that was it-no way around it-it is what it is and I am stubborn. I will give it everything I have. Kris really struggled with it too-so we decided that we would have one "what if" conversation and that would be the end of it-the rest would be positive, period.

Friday came and I was scared. I wanted to go by myself and I did. It was an amazing experience. I felt that day that God knows exacty who I am, and exactly what I need. I had the perfect nurse and doctor for me-they answered all of my questions and joked about how redheads just get the luck on these things. Also, because it was in a flabby region-it wasn't too painful. They made a football shaped incision and removed the entire mole along with the cells, etc. stitched me up, packed me up, and home I went. I went in 2 weeks later to find out they had removed it all, and I needed to return yearly for check ups. I have a scar as long as my pinky finger, and I no longer care if I ever have a tan again. This experience was a good wake up call about what is important. How grateful I am for the many promptings I had to get it looked at, and the reality check that I need to be more aware of myself and take better care of myself.