Many journeys in life are planned… or, at least, eagerly awaited. A backpacking trip through western Europe. A hike in the mountains. Parenthood.
And then there are the journeys that are forced upon you. The ones that you hope you’ll never have to embark on.
In the middle of all the excitement of planning our big Ireland family-trip, I got startling news: I had basil cell carcinoma right above my left eye. Skin cancer.
Receiving the news couldn’t have been any more dramatic. I’d had a dermatology appointment a week before. My dermatologist had removed a few oddly shaped freckles as well as what I thought to be a skin tag right below my left eyebrow. Sweet I thought. That thing has been annoying me for years!
The following Friday while I was on my lunch break (I’m a teacher), I checked my voicemail.
“Hello. This is Nurse So-and-So calling from the doctor’s office. Please call me as soon as possible. The staff leaves at noon today.”
It was 11:55. I rushed off to the bathroom, my colleagues all warming up their lunches right outside, and frantically called back. At my appointment, I was told I wouldn’t be getting a call unless it was bad news, so I knew this was bad.
The receptionist answered and told me that everyone had gone for the day and would be back Monday.
“No,” I cried. “I can’t go all weekend not knowing what is going on. Can you tell me what the results were?”
“No,” she said. “I’m not authorized to do so, but I’ll see if I can track someone down to call you back.”
Red-faced and weary, I sat down with my fellow teachers, ate quickly with my phone haunting me, and then headed upstairs to teach a small group of eighth graders.
Right as the students were filing in, my phone buzzed. I never have my phone out when students are around, so when I went to the corner of the small room and answered, my students knew I was attending to some serious business.
It was then I was told that I had skin cancer. I started sobbing as the nurse explained that because of the area, I may need plastic surgery. She also stated, “Just hope that it hasn’t spread.”
I hung up, tried to gather myself and face my students, but as soon as I began to speak, I just started sobbing. My eighth graders were silent. They looked downright scared.
“I’m sorry, guys,” I said. “I’ve never cried in front of students before.”
“I’ve never seen a teacher cry,” one of my students remarked somberly.
I called the office, requested a substitute, and left for the day.
That weekend passed in a flow of tears as I stared at my daughter, wondering if I’d be able to watch her grow up. My husband put on a brave act, but I could tell her was scared too. I Googled my condition. Some information put more fear in my heart. Some eased my pain. It wasn’t until Monday when I actually spoke to my doctor that I started to feel better. She said that less than 1% of this kind of cancer spreads to other parts of the body.
So why in the hell had that nurse said that terrible thing? I still have no idea.
Fast forward about six weeks later, to yesterday. I had what is called a MOHs surgery. Basically, the plan was to give me local anesthetic and take out the cancer cells little by little until they were no longer present under the microscope. I am ecstatic to say that it only took one round of surgery to remove all of the cancer cells. Therefore, I did not need plastic surgery. I do have swollen skin, stitches, and bruising, but overall I am doing very well.
Lesson Learned: Skin cancer doesn’t just show up as freckles and moles. It can be any kind of growth on the skin and can result from injury. For example, I think that “skin tag” was the result of pinching myself one day while tweezing my eyebrows. That injury then mutated (thanks to UV rays) into skin cancer.
Be mindful of your own body. Be aware of what has always been there and what suddenly appears.
If you’re fair-skinned like me, go to the dermatologist once a year to get checked out. Trust me, it is better to know. If they hadn’t caught it early, this little spot could’ve been the end of me.
Jen, I am so glad you found it and had it checked out. Following it thru and having it taken out is wonderful. I am so glad you are ok and that it is gone. Love you dear.