And Two Makes 15

Two years ago I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma. I had gone to my doctor for a physical. She didn't like the look of a mole on my back so she referred me to a dermatologist. A few weeks later, on a Friday, at about 6:30 p.m., I got a call from Dr. Hammond's office. It was the secretary, sounding very rushed. She read off the biopsy results like a grocery list. "It says here that you have malignant melanoma. The doctor doesn't have time to talk to you right now but you can give him a call next week". The only thing I could think to ask was, "Does that mean I have cancer?" She said, "Yes and have a good weekend." I was stunned, feeling very ignorant and helpless. Who shares news like that by phone, from a  non-medical person, on a Friday night??

I can totally relate to George on Seinfeld when he got test results back and was told they were negative and he went ballistic- "Oh my God, I'm gonna die. The test is negative."  Until two years ago I've always thought the word benign sounded as bad or worse than malignant- "Oh my God, I'm going to die. The tumor is benign!!" But besides the way a few words sounded, I had no knowledge of the language of cancer. And nothing makes me feel more out of control than a lack of knowledge.

My family lovingly(?) refers to me as the "homeschooler". I love to research things I don't understand- start a binder, fill it with articles, book reviews, notes and pictures- fantastic! I have my laptop set up on my bed and look up stuff as I'm watching a show, reading a book, listening to a podcast. The best advise I ever got  was to immediately stop what I'm doing and look up a word when I read or hear one I don't understand.

So, at 6:32 p.m. I was off to look up malignant melanoma. The first thing I read was, "Melanoma is the deadliest form of skin cancer. Whether it's called malignant melanoma or simply melanoma, this cancer can metastasize (spread) rapidly." The only person I had ever known with melanoma was dead. Most people around me were as ignorant as I was about melanoma. Some friends thought of the news as not much more than a pimple, some thought it was a death sentence. Most responded like I did with a lot of questions. Everyone responded with lots of love and support.

What came next was pretty straight forward. I was referred to an oncologist who proceeded to remove about a softball size of skin and muscle from my back and several lymph nodes from my left armpit. Test results showed that the cancer had not spread so no further treatment was necessary. Follow-up has included lots of protection from the sun, regular full-body exams from the dermatologist and support from Gilda's Club.

Unfortunately, every exam has resulted in more biopsies. Including last week's two, I have had 15 suspicious spots removed. That's about five stitches each time, both under and on the surface of the skin- 150 or so total. My back and arms look like Frankenstein's monster. I see the doctor every three to six months and pray that she will utter the words, "Everything looks good. We'll see you in six months." I haven't heard those words yet.

Yesterday I got the call I've mentally prepared for everytime I have another biopsy. "We found abnormal cells. The cancer is back. Let's schedule surgery."  Two times out of 15. What are the odds of that?