It's Always There, I Guess.......
Been a long time since I have written in this blog...........
One of the greatest challenges of being a survivor is that nagging feeling we carry with us waiting for another shoe to drop. Especially with my family history. We've learned never to say, "What's next?" lest we find out! We grow to accept this feeling over time and really don't spend our days agonizing over what could happen, but then some small, seemingly harmless bump or mark or ache raises a red flag.
I went to have my teeth cleaned at lunch today. No big deal, right? Unless, of course you are over 50 and your gums are receding and heaven knows what all, still........it's a teeth cleaning. Then the dentist comes in to check and with a very concerned face points out a "freckle" on the inside of your bottom lip. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't typically sit in the sun with my mouth open, nor do I bike or run this way as, well I've eaten enough bugs, thank you very much. She implores me to see a dermatologist, or oral surgeon (??). As the panic slowly floods my central nervous system, I stand at the desk while the receptionist calls to get me an appointment with their oral surgeon. Patient has a "lesion" she says. Now it's a freaking "LESION"??? Next available appointment is July 16. Seriously? As my friend Kelly says, "What the Actual F^&*?"
I know that my Survivor Sisters, both literal and figurative, will relate to this. THREE weeks. So, I take the appointment card, thank you fuckly much for your concern and suddenly I am in survival mode. Fight or Flight. What do you think? I'm going to sit around for THREE weeks while this "thing" whatever it is continues to invade my body?
We know damn well what can happen in THREE weeks.
So, trying to keep the adrenaline in check, I get back to my office and start making calls. At this point, there is no work, no Ironman, no nothing. I call the local dermatologist, explaining my issue and concern and am told, "Sorry, all booked up, getting ready for 2 week vacation." First do no harm, yeah. EffU.
Next call is to a dermatologist I went to before. Appointment open at 4, bah-bye. One quick look and it is indeed a "freckle." Again, what the actual........?? I ask the PA how long he has been doing this, and say he comes to some quick conclusions, he admits this is so and it freaks people out, then he asks what I do, I tell him and he says, "So, you can look at a problem and know what it is, right?" Bazinga. So, he freezes it off and says (because the risk factor is NEVER 0%) if it comes back, he will biopsy.
The emotional roller coaster when this happens leaves me exhausted and in a sort of fugue state, almost catatonic. And I cry. Not from the fear of dying, but the fear of living through another bout of cancer. The physical, emotional, and financial toll is almost more than we can bear.
There needs to be some compassion in the healthcare industry (stop laughing) that cancer survivors, when faced with something of concern, are seen IMMEDIATELY! If I had to go 3 weeks, I would be a mess, it would wreck me.
First do no harm. THREE WEEKS is HARMFUL.
Why do I do what I do? Because the day may come when I cannot. No one knows when that day will come for them, but for some of us there is a much greater risk that it will be sooner rather than later.
Nothing is insignificant if you are a survivor. Nothing is too small. Fight on my loves, fight on. I promise to as well.
-Laura
One of the greatest challenges of being a survivor is that nagging feeling we carry with us waiting for another shoe to drop. Especially with my family history. We've learned never to say, "What's next?" lest we find out! We grow to accept this feeling over time and really don't spend our days agonizing over what could happen, but then some small, seemingly harmless bump or mark or ache raises a red flag.
I went to have my teeth cleaned at lunch today. No big deal, right? Unless, of course you are over 50 and your gums are receding and heaven knows what all, still........it's a teeth cleaning. Then the dentist comes in to check and with a very concerned face points out a "freckle" on the inside of your bottom lip. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't typically sit in the sun with my mouth open, nor do I bike or run this way as, well I've eaten enough bugs, thank you very much. She implores me to see a dermatologist, or oral surgeon (??). As the panic slowly floods my central nervous system, I stand at the desk while the receptionist calls to get me an appointment with their oral surgeon. Patient has a "lesion" she says. Now it's a freaking "LESION"??? Next available appointment is July 16. Seriously? As my friend Kelly says, "What the Actual F^&*?"
I know that my Survivor Sisters, both literal and figurative, will relate to this. THREE weeks. So, I take the appointment card, thank you fuckly much for your concern and suddenly I am in survival mode. Fight or Flight. What do you think? I'm going to sit around for THREE weeks while this "thing" whatever it is continues to invade my body?
We know damn well what can happen in THREE weeks.
So, trying to keep the adrenaline in check, I get back to my office and start making calls. At this point, there is no work, no Ironman, no nothing. I call the local dermatologist, explaining my issue and concern and am told, "Sorry, all booked up, getting ready for 2 week vacation." First do no harm, yeah. EffU.
Next call is to a dermatologist I went to before. Appointment open at 4, bah-bye. One quick look and it is indeed a "freckle." Again, what the actual........?? I ask the PA how long he has been doing this, and say he comes to some quick conclusions, he admits this is so and it freaks people out, then he asks what I do, I tell him and he says, "So, you can look at a problem and know what it is, right?" Bazinga. So, he freezes it off and says (because the risk factor is NEVER 0%) if it comes back, he will biopsy.
The emotional roller coaster when this happens leaves me exhausted and in a sort of fugue state, almost catatonic. And I cry. Not from the fear of dying, but the fear of living through another bout of cancer. The physical, emotional, and financial toll is almost more than we can bear.
There needs to be some compassion in the healthcare industry (stop laughing) that cancer survivors, when faced with something of concern, are seen IMMEDIATELY! If I had to go 3 weeks, I would be a mess, it would wreck me.
First do no harm. THREE WEEKS is HARMFUL.
Why do I do what I do? Because the day may come when I cannot. No one knows when that day will come for them, but for some of us there is a much greater risk that it will be sooner rather than later.
Nothing is insignificant if you are a survivor. Nothing is too small. Fight on my loves, fight on. I promise to as well.
-Laura
Comments
Post a Comment