May! Here already! 2023 is FLYING! It’s crazy!
I’m writing to you today about something incredibly personal, but as May is skin cancer awareness month, I feel like the time is right to share.
In September last year, September 23rd to be exact, I was told that a mole on my back was in fact skin cancer. It’s funny, when you hear those words, the rest is just white noise, so I couldn't tell you what the doctor said next really, it’s all a haze, I was at work when I got the call. After I went back to my desk and carried on the day as normal, got in the car at home time and cried hysterically for my 33 mile commute, got up the next day and went to try on bridesmaid dresses, completely numb to the outside world. I knew there was a hospital appointment coming at some point in the next 2 weeks, until then I just plodded on and tried not to get too much in my own head, trying to convince myself that I would go the that appointment and they would tell me it was all a mistake. Unfortunately that wasn't the case and I was referred to a skin cancer specialist in Leeds. The weeks went by, I won’t lie, the waiting was hard, not knowing if this thing was growing and spreading inside me, the rollercoaster of emotions, from rock bottom to sky high was hard to manage, my mental health has taken a battering that’s for sure. Eventually I got a letter about my next appointment, December 8th. We went, sat in the waiting room with all these other people the same as me, and if I’m honest I felt like a fraud. I was physically fine, it was just a little mole, and I was taking up valuable time and resources of the already overstretched NHS, but the appointment was way more serious than I thought, two doctors, a nurse and my consultant all waiting for me, in this little hot room, talking about my melanoma, the path it might of taken if it had spread, what would happen in my surgery, where they would operate, the tests I would need, the injections, it was all very overwhelming, and of course after this came another wait, 7 weeks, that was the longest ever. Who knew rock bottom had a basement? I felt like I was constantly walking with a storm cloud above my head, nothing to look forward to, I felt no joy, I felt like there was no joy left in the world at all. Of course I smiled and laughed, listened to friends, tried to look/feel normal but if i’m really honest, I was empty, just moving though days, existing.
When I finally got my date though for my surgery the relief was unbelievable. Like there was a light at the end of the tunnel, even if then outcome was bad, at least I would know and I would be on a path to recovery, but the not knowing was unbearable, eating me away from the inside.
Surgery day came, I won’t go into details, but it was a long long day with lots of meetings with various doctors and nurses, being injected with all kinds of things, and then finally the surgery. I won’t lie I was terrified of being put to sleep and not waking up, but I did wake up, sore and feeling a little sick. Andy came to collect me, and soon enough we were home, safe. I think I slept more in the next few days than I have in my life. I stayed pretty much in bed for almost a week, binged lots of boxsets and movies and just tried my best to rest.
Just another short wait for the results. March 8th. I got the all clear. Obviously it was an amazing feeling, overwhelming, the relief washed over me like a tsunami, but the storm clouds didn’t go away. I thought, naively I would feel back to normal, Rea before all this, but I didn’t, and I still don’t. I think the trauma of all this will live with me for a really long time, if not forever.
For the next five years I will remain staged at 1B, and will have constant check ups to make sure it’s not returned.
When I first went to my GP to have my new and unusual mole checked I was sent away with a flea in my ear, and made to feel like a drama queen, put I was persistent, I went back, again I was told it was nothing, but it was sore and itchy, so I persisted with having it removed. The doctor did her best to put me off, but I pushed for the removal and thank god I did. It was only via routine testing that my melanoma was diagnosed. Had I listened to the GP it would still be in there now, spreading and causing devastating damage.
The recovery has been and is still hard, the physical scars I’ve been left with are a constant reminder and lets not even go near the mental scars box. I have to take precautions when I'm outside, which I never considered before. Applying factor 50 sun lotion everyday has been come part of my routine and I now have a dazzling array of sun hats.
So please CHECK YOUR MOLES! and don’t forget the suncream!
Love Forever xx
*excluding wedding invitations