This is something I wrote a few hours after seeing the doctor. I didn't edit it in any way except to replace names with initials, I just copied and pasted it. This is what I felt like shortly after being told I have cancer:
I have cancer. It's something I never imagined I'd ever have to say or type to anyone. I just found out today. Melanoma. Skin cancer. Aggressive. I had a big ugly growing mole removed about a week and a half ago. The doctor said he didn't expect to find anything when he sent in the sample and I was to just follow up with him in September to get results. That was July 2nd. Today, July 13th, at 10:45, I get a call from the doctor's office asking if I was coming in to get my stitches out. I told her I already took them out myself - what I didn't tell her was that I did it early and accidentally ripped my incision open and at the hospital, after waiting five hours, I was told it was too late to put stitches back in. I felt embarrassed by it and had planned to cancel the September appointment so I didn't have to explain my idiocracy to the doctor. Planned to cancel it. Maybe the universe knew. Anyway, at 10:45, after telling her I wasn't coming in to get stitches removed, she (the nice nurse who was there during my biopsy) told me they really needed to see me today or tomorrow since they got the results of the biopsy back. I could feel the blood drain from my face and get very cold. I knew it was serious. Today or tomorrow. I just kept asking what time. She said I didn't need an appointment - it's a specialist office, if you don't need an appointment that can't be good, right? She said they already had an appointment with another specialist for me on Thursday - who? That can't be good, right? The waiting room beside my desk was full and the clinic was full but in my head was pure silence. I said ok and hung up. I went to the bathroom and tried to force myself to take deep breaths. I came back out, grabbed the cordless phone, and went in the back room. I called M at work - there's no way I should be driving I thought. No answer. Do I leave a message? No. I went back to my desk. Can't make eye contact with patients. Get back up, pace until my boss, M2, is done with his client. Quietly whisper to him, "can I talk to you for a minute?" We go in the back room and I can feel myself cracking as the words leave my mouth and I start to cry. He puts his arms around me and tells me it'll be okay and just to go whenever I need to. I hate crying in front of people. He hugs me a few times and I can tell he's really concerned. He brings me the cordless phone again to try to get M and tells me to take all the time I need. Finally, I get M and he doesn't even hesitate to say he'll come get me. I have to go to my desk and book appointments for a client on her way out and then I go. Doctor's office. The receptionist doesn't even know I'm coming. I tell her Alice called - the nice nurse. She goes to talk to her. I am told to take a seat. I look around at tanned people around me and wonder how I can be the one who's about to be told I have skin cancer. I avoid sun tanning at all costs. I almost never wear shorts and only this year started wearing tank tops with any frequency. They're tanned and they look just fine. I sit for only a minute maybe - another sign that it can't be good news, like I didn't already know. I go to a specialists' office without an appointment and get right in - I realized today that didn't make me feel happy at all. M & I wait maybe five minutes and the dermatologist comes in. He doesn't waste any time. You have skin cancer. It's aggressive. It's called melanoma. Game plan. Surgery with Dr. F on Thursday to make sure I have "clear margins," i.e. the tissue surrounding my biopsy is free from cancer cells. Friday I have a chest x-ray and blood work to check for metastases, i.e. spreading. So now we wait. At the very least, I have to be checked yearly by the dermatologist and see my own family doctor every four to eight months. At the worst, well, I don't really want to even think about it... radiation, chemo, death... Yea, I don't want to think about it. I have cancer. I've said it to myself both in my head and out loud at least 50 times today. I have cancer. It's the sort of thing you expect to happen to someone else, never yourself. I'm healthy, or so I thought. I feel great. My life is finally starting to feel good and now I have cancer? How is that what's supposed to happen? After we left the doctor's office, M wanted to take me out to eat. I wanted to come home. We came home and I called my mom. She came over. I just wanted her to stop talking. Thankfully she didn't stay long. Then it was silent. I called a friend from work who is off on mat leave. She made me feel so much better, just talking to her. I found out it's not what you say to someone who tells you they have cancer, it's how you say it. Maybe it's a bit of what you say too, but now that I know for sure, there's really nothing you can say or hear that makes it better. It just is. It's best just to know people are there, not there to say the right thing. After I got off the phone with her, M took me out to get sushi for lunch and then we went to a store with neat home decorating stuff downtown. It was both the worst day and the most perfect day. He's really scared, I can tell. I like how he spontaneously reaches out to hold my hand or touch my leg now. It makes me feel loved and like it's going to be ok. Because it has to. July 13th, the day I found out I have cancer. And now I have to tell everyone else. I hate calling with bad news. I really hate it. What a day.
No comments:
Post a Comment