I know it's a weird trite thing to say, but I really never thought I'd get married until after I got my shit all together. I've learned from reddit and google that this is a very common unfounded belief for women in my peer group.
Next month I'll turn 30, and I'm the luckiest person in the world. I got to marry my best friend, greatest lover, and most inspiring coconspirator. His family loves and accepts me. My brother is happy. I've found the best job that utilizes and suits all of my talents, skill, and abilities, and doesn't feel like work.
I didn't have the support network before to focus on fixing the things that I've been unable to address, namely, my health. First thing I learned is that my doc says I need to get under 200lbs before she'd encourage me to have kids, which is less than I anticipated and much more attainable within a year.
The second thing I needed to do was to get my moles checked. I had a mole biopsy taken, 2-3 stitches to be removed after ten days, and the results were supposed to take up to seven days. It only took them two days to have the result from the lab. Sure enough, it turns out I have melanoma. It's stage one (T1B), and it doesn't appear to have spread, but it was ulcerated, which is not as positive as it could be. It only went .86mm below the surface of my skin, which is positive (greater than 1mm is another classification). In a week or so, I'll be having an excision of the skin around it, along with sentinel (closest) lymph to biopsy to confirm the not-spread nature. Even if it has spread to the lymph, a shallow mole that's spread to lymph is easier to treat than a deeper one would be. My options if it has spread to the lymph remain a mystery to me. Because I value my sanity, avoiding internet diagnoses like the plague (hurr) seems to be the best option, but I was assured by the dermatologist that there are plenty of options we could explore if that happens.
When I heard the news, I was babysitting my friend's four year old twins (they were our ring bearers), and we were just finishing lunch at Burger King. I immediately started crying, the boys crawled under the table to come and hug me and hand me napkins, and I hugged them back and sent them to the play place so I could finish the conversation and gather the remaining information from my doctor. After getting off the phone, I threw out the trash, gathered my things, refilled my drink, and popped out the door to the tables in the play place to better observe the boys. Tears have never been something I've been able to fight, and this news ensured my eyes would remain pretty constantly leaky for the next 36 hours or so.
One of the two women who were watching their own children turned to me and asked if the boys were mine, and whether they were twins. "Mine are twins, but fraternal. I just love identicals, they're so cute. Are you okay?" she asked, and my answer was "Yeah, I just got some bad news, I promise. I'm just a crier."
Another five minutes of sobbing passed with me texting the people I needed to tell, explaining my stupidly dramatic cryptic tweet which read only, "Woo, I have cancer!" (that I'd intended to be more comical because of the enthusiasm but it didn't really come across in that medium). She asked again, "Are you sure you're okay?" I tried to get out what it was but I was in the middle of a blubber, so I sipped some more tea, and said, clearly, "I'm sorry I sent the boys out here, I swear I'm not the kind of irresponsible person who'd send four year olds alone to a playground. I was just given a diagnosis of skin cancer. It's only stage one and I'll be okay, but I'm scared."
What followed was about ten minutes of preaching at me from this woman and the other mother who'd wandered over, about how we serve a god of healing and how I have to trust in him to heal me. She said, "No matter where you are in your walk, would you allow me to pray over you?" and being alone in small town Kyle, Texas, I felt like it would've been super rude to suddenly be like, "No thanks," especially because she was very sincere and it truly came from a place of love. Besides, even if I don't believe that her god is real or for me, it made her feel better and was a comfort to me for a stranger to be compassionate. It's a trait I really strive for, so when it's shown to me, I can't find it in myself to reject it. So she prayed, we hugged, and they all left, and it was me and the twins. I let them play until I'd taken enough deep breaths to not be quite as blubbery, and we headed back to the house.
I felt really bad that I may have scared the twins, but they've been raised so well that they understand that sometimes people are sad and they know how to be comforting and empathetic. They're such little men, and if our children can be half as incredible and extraordinary as each of those twins, I'll consider us successful parents.
So that's the story of how I learned I have cancer. The farther from hearing her confirm it over the phone, the less terrified I am. In two weeks or so, it should be confirmed that I'm completely free of it. I have frequent head to toe skin checks to look forward to until I die, because apparently I wasn't naked in front of doctors enough. I'm not looking forward to the scar (though the dermatologist has assured me there is a lot we can do to fix that once it's been removed), or the itching that indicates healing.
The things that make me feel good are that I'm being taken care of, and when I ask for distractions my friends have been able to provide endless hours of internet entertainment. Plus, hockey's back from the lockout and the NHL channels have a free preview until Jan 31, so we've been watching a lot of excellent out-of-market games.
So wear physical/mineral sunscreen, and get your moles checked. Eat your oatmeal, and drink your milk. And stay in school. And don't whiz on the electric fence.
