Today was the day I finally got the stitches out on my back. Sigh! Having a wound right at your waistline is not fun. Unfortunately, the skin isn't totally stretched out yet, so I have to be careful to not bend too far forward too fast and pull it open. The joys of asking your skin to cover for you.. literally.
Last week, while on vacation, I got the phone call that the second (third really) biopsy at that site finally had clear margins. In my previous post I talked about not getting any details or the lab reports. Well, I got them today and I'm glad I didn't. Today, I'm in the healing phase, I'm moving on but seeing how close the monster was in black and white is still terrifying and sucks.
The short version of the lab report showed that I had "moderate cytologic atypia of the epidermal melanocytes" and all other sorts of fancy words about my "moderately atypical dysplastic compound nevus." Are your eyes rolling in the back of your head yet? Basically, a "mole" that was less than a year old had changed at the cellular level and was progressing at a rate that would have probably been melanoma soon. Way too soon. I've already done a lot of research and stopped when one report showed that I'm now 46 times more likely to have melanoma reappear that I was before. Some doctors might even label this site "melanoma in situ." Man, that's even hard to type let alone wrap my head around. I'm lucky that none of my other biopsy sites show the moles coming back and none had this level of change, especially so quickly.
I'm sitting here trying to process this and feeling like I dodged a huge bullet. The monster was clearly lurking and growing while I lived my life unaware. That's so hard to understand and deal with. Is the monster in another site that I haven't "noticed" yet or was this it? No one knows. Not me, not the doctors, no one. And that is the frustrating part of having melanoma 3 years ago and finding out that the monster was back hiding in/on you. As a kid, I thought the monster was under my bed, as an adult I think (and now know, twice) that it's hiding under my skin.
So, there goes my 6 month visits. I'm back on the three month plan. I already have my next appointment for early November because I just couldn't do it on Halloween. Any teacher will tell you that's an amazingly tough day for us and there was no way I'd have the mental strength to handle both a sugar-laden holiday and biopsies on the same day. I've been through this enough (teaching and biopsies) to know better. I go back a few days before Veteran's Day. I figure an extra day off never hurt if they have to re-excise something again. The things you have to think about when this is your life.
My mantra has always been "Not without a fight" and I'm sure not quitting now that I know the monster is still lurking and waiting for me to give up and quit fighting. Well, the melanoma monster can kiss my a$$ because I'm not done fighting. Especially now.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Another procedure done
Being a cancer survivor/patient really, really sucks some days. And I say that from a totally selfish place of never having had to go through radiation or chemo. But it still sucks. Period.
This afternoon was my appointment for the second procedure to remove an area that had been biopsied 3 weeks ago. Here's the information: The original site was biopsied about a year ago. That biopsy showed a moderately dyplastic mole. In the time since then, the mole "re-appeared" or re-grew back. So, another biopsy. This biopsy showed the new growth was still moderately dysplastic but without clear margins. Hence the new 1 inch long scar I'm now sporting.
The numbing agent has not yet worn off but I can feel the tight skin of an area that will take some time to adjust. It's on my lower back, right under my waistband, and I have no doubt I'll be constantly reminded how much I bend this area in the week to come. Not fun but the life I lead now. AKA: Cancer sucks.
The part of the visit that really sucks was discussing the other results. All three sites were moderately dysplastic. Not mild, not low, not high just 3/4 up the scale of nastiness. And I don't like it. My odds of 50% benign results seems to be fading.... and my results of "low" dyplastic moles seems to be fading. And I don't like it. The optimist in me says we are clearly targeting the sites that need to be removed. The pessimist in me says, "What about the ones being missed?" There's no good answer here except cancer sucks!
Since this is a selfish post, I'm just going to go with it. I hate, absolutely hate, that I cannot simply remove the offending cancerous organ and move on. I'll admit (in my weak moments) that I'm jealous of my mom who had cancer and it is clearly gone now after she had her kidney removed. Do I want to trade places with her? No, absolutely not because that was her only working kidney and now she's on dialysis for 4+ years until she can get a transplant. (A post for another day). I wish I were like the boys' lizard who sheds her skin for a new one. Or why isn't there a procedure that would make my offending moles glow under a specific light? Yes, I hate this. Cancer sucks and I don't have to like it.
I don't complain often but today I need to. There's no fun in this battle. On a good day, I know I'm winning and I'm fighting the good fight but sometimes, down in the trenches, it just flat out sucks! And I don't have to like it. I just have to survive it..... and I AM!
This afternoon was my appointment for the second procedure to remove an area that had been biopsied 3 weeks ago. Here's the information: The original site was biopsied about a year ago. That biopsy showed a moderately dyplastic mole. In the time since then, the mole "re-appeared" or re-grew back. So, another biopsy. This biopsy showed the new growth was still moderately dysplastic but without clear margins. Hence the new 1 inch long scar I'm now sporting.
The numbing agent has not yet worn off but I can feel the tight skin of an area that will take some time to adjust. It's on my lower back, right under my waistband, and I have no doubt I'll be constantly reminded how much I bend this area in the week to come. Not fun but the life I lead now. AKA: Cancer sucks.
The part of the visit that really sucks was discussing the other results. All three sites were moderately dysplastic. Not mild, not low, not high just 3/4 up the scale of nastiness. And I don't like it. My odds of 50% benign results seems to be fading.... and my results of "low" dyplastic moles seems to be fading. And I don't like it. The optimist in me says we are clearly targeting the sites that need to be removed. The pessimist in me says, "What about the ones being missed?" There's no good answer here except cancer sucks!
Since this is a selfish post, I'm just going to go with it. I hate, absolutely hate, that I cannot simply remove the offending cancerous organ and move on. I'll admit (in my weak moments) that I'm jealous of my mom who had cancer and it is clearly gone now after she had her kidney removed. Do I want to trade places with her? No, absolutely not because that was her only working kidney and now she's on dialysis for 4+ years until she can get a transplant. (A post for another day). I wish I were like the boys' lizard who sheds her skin for a new one. Or why isn't there a procedure that would make my offending moles glow under a specific light? Yes, I hate this. Cancer sucks and I don't have to like it.
I don't complain often but today I need to. There's no fun in this battle. On a good day, I know I'm winning and I'm fighting the good fight but sometimes, down in the trenches, it just flat out sucks! And I don't have to like it. I just have to survive it..... and I AM!
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Revisiting the past
When you haven't written anything in this long, it's hard to know where to start.... so I'm going to start at the reason I'm posting again. No, the monster isn't back but his ugly stepsister is.
Here's the story: I've been undergoing biopsies every 3 to 6 months this last few years. Unfortunately, 50% come back as dysplastic which puts me at a much higher risk of melanoma, yada, yada, yada. Not cancer but "you're going to get cancer" results. And yet, there's no research to put a timeline on these moles going bad.
So, I was cruising along knowing that at least half of the moles being removed were ones that should be. And then this last round. Bam! Knocked off my feet.
A slight back story first. I changed dermatologists because my primary care doc changed medical groups and I felt like another fresh set of eyes was worth trying. I knew I could change both docs if I wasn't happy. Of course, as a new patient - even one with melanoma history - you have to wait a while for an appointment. When I made the appointment in April the first available she had was in June. 6/26 = my three year anniversary. Nope, I wasn't going to mess with that karma.
I went in and had a great visit but found out this doc isn't one to mess around (which I love) and I walked out of my 3-year anniversary appointment with three new biopsies to celebrate. Again, not arguing with karma here.
The nurse called a week later and said that one of the 3 was dysplastic, another medium grade, one is benign and the third needs a more extensive procedure to remove more surrounding area because "it is an atypical mole." At that point, the world stopped moving. I was just together enough to directly ask if it was cancer and she said no but I wasn't thinking well enough to get more details. This week, I have an hour long procedure to remove a chunk of my lower back. Right at the waistline. Not looking forward to it.
I'm sure someone will wonder why I haven't called back for more information. Why? Because I know myself well enough in this fight to know it wouldn't do me any good. I'll get the lab results when I go in for the appointment. I'll have my journal with me and will take lots of notes to review later when I've forgotten some details. Why? Because they won't have all the answers for me now. They don't know how long I won't be able to run or how long until I can bend fully at the waist. So, I didn't ask. Why? Because cancer sucks and anything atypical enough to require an hour removal gives me enough information on the "cluster f***" scale to deal with. More information is not my friend right now. I'm eating this elephant one bite at a time.
With any luck, I'm seriously over-thinking this and will be running again two days after the procedure with 4 new stitches. There are 2 there now. Is that possible? Not very likely which is why I've made a few adjustments and bought a few skirts/pants that don't have true waistbands to rub, told my running buddies to not wait for me, and delayed leaving on a vacation by a few days. I just hope and believe that this procedure caught the monster before he was fully developed and could cause a bigger battle. That's what I'm going into this appointment believing. That's the first bite/step.
I'll be posting more in the coming days about my 2 year anniversary and how I had to call back a nurse to apologize to. And at some point, I'll vent out the whole "it's just skin cancer" comments I still can't deal with.
My mantra still: Not Without A Fight!
Here's the story: I've been undergoing biopsies every 3 to 6 months this last few years. Unfortunately, 50% come back as dysplastic which puts me at a much higher risk of melanoma, yada, yada, yada. Not cancer but "you're going to get cancer" results. And yet, there's no research to put a timeline on these moles going bad.
So, I was cruising along knowing that at least half of the moles being removed were ones that should be. And then this last round. Bam! Knocked off my feet.
A slight back story first. I changed dermatologists because my primary care doc changed medical groups and I felt like another fresh set of eyes was worth trying. I knew I could change both docs if I wasn't happy. Of course, as a new patient - even one with melanoma history - you have to wait a while for an appointment. When I made the appointment in April the first available she had was in June. 6/26 = my three year anniversary. Nope, I wasn't going to mess with that karma.
I went in and had a great visit but found out this doc isn't one to mess around (which I love) and I walked out of my 3-year anniversary appointment with three new biopsies to celebrate. Again, not arguing with karma here.
The nurse called a week later and said that one of the 3 was dysplastic, another medium grade, one is benign and the third needs a more extensive procedure to remove more surrounding area because "it is an atypical mole." At that point, the world stopped moving. I was just together enough to directly ask if it was cancer and she said no but I wasn't thinking well enough to get more details. This week, I have an hour long procedure to remove a chunk of my lower back. Right at the waistline. Not looking forward to it.
I'm sure someone will wonder why I haven't called back for more information. Why? Because I know myself well enough in this fight to know it wouldn't do me any good. I'll get the lab results when I go in for the appointment. I'll have my journal with me and will take lots of notes to review later when I've forgotten some details. Why? Because they won't have all the answers for me now. They don't know how long I won't be able to run or how long until I can bend fully at the waist. So, I didn't ask. Why? Because cancer sucks and anything atypical enough to require an hour removal gives me enough information on the "cluster f***" scale to deal with. More information is not my friend right now. I'm eating this elephant one bite at a time.
With any luck, I'm seriously over-thinking this and will be running again two days after the procedure with 4 new stitches. There are 2 there now. Is that possible? Not very likely which is why I've made a few adjustments and bought a few skirts/pants that don't have true waistbands to rub, told my running buddies to not wait for me, and delayed leaving on a vacation by a few days. I just hope and believe that this procedure caught the monster before he was fully developed and could cause a bigger battle. That's what I'm going into this appointment believing. That's the first bite/step.
I'll be posting more in the coming days about my 2 year anniversary and how I had to call back a nurse to apologize to. And at some point, I'll vent out the whole "it's just skin cancer" comments I still can't deal with.
My mantra still: Not Without A Fight!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)