I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Fuck Cancer

But this time with a comma. As in, "Fuck, Cancer." As in "Fuck I have cancer, again."

Over the past year I've has some problems with my skin. Several we had frozen off last February. At that time the dermatologist said we should go to a 9 month interval between scans, but I should call if I notice any other problems. Which I did last April, but before I could call my life when to hell. And then I scraped my head in the garage and that left a scab over the same area. When that scab fell off, the dry spot was gone. So, yeah for self-surgery.

But there were others. Again, life was hell this past Summer.

Then in August I felt a few more spots. By October one was bleeding and crusting over. For future reference, this is not a good thing. I knew that, but life was still kinda hell and my 9 month appointment was coming up anyway.

At the end of November I saw the dermatologist again. Each time the nurse practitioner or the doctor came back into the exam room I kept remembering other facts (like I actually took a picture when the one spot was bleeding). At that time the doctor took two biopsies (both on the back of my head, within about 5" from the previous surgery site. We also froze off four spots that she wasn't too worried about.

And then we entered the time of Schrödinger's Cancer. This is what it's like when the biopsy sample has been taken, but you don't know the answer. So there's the box, but you don't know if you do have cancer or don't have cancer. And you're not the one who has to open the box.

Well, last Wednesday I got a call from the doctor's office. Cell phone reception at the day thing is horrible, so it went to voice mail. Work was crazy this past week so I didn't get an opportunity to call back until the next day. And then we played phone tag until Friday afternoon. At the start of the day thing's Holiday Lunch (sorry guys, like I said, I had to take that call).

The good news is the one biopsy was an inflamed cuticle. But the other one (the one closest to the previous incision site) was Basal Cell Carcinoma. It's also the site that hasn't healed well from the biopsy.

So I have cancer again. And now I have to figure out when I can have Moh's Surgery again. Right now it's not looking good until the end of January (have I mentioned life is kinda crazy at the moment).

It's still sinking in, and I keep coming up with new questions. As cancers go, if you get the choice, Basal Cell Carcinoma is the way to go. It's slow growing, doesn't typically metastasize, and isn't going to cause organ failure or any other major issues. But it will grow and left untreated can become a major problem.

However it's not good that I have had two in the past 3 years.

So fuck cancer. Fuck, cancer.

2 comments:

Jim C. Hines said...

Well, shit. Glad you caught it, and glad it's relatively slow. But fuck cancer anyway.

Steve Buchheit said...

Thanks, Jim. Yeah, everybody keep checking for lumps and dry spots. And fuck cancer.