grrlTravels

I missed you too.

I'm guessing my summer was pretty much like yours. Let's see—what happened? I got a new tattoo, almost planned a trip to Bhutan, and either did or did not have cancer.

I know! Bhutan! It was sort of crazy really, a crazy little dream that K. thought should be more. I'm still contemplating Bhutan. It's far though. And it's a long time to be away. But still. It seeps into my consciousness at random intervals calling to me. We'll see. I doubt it, but you never know.

And then yeah, there was the cancer thing. One day I was taking a break from blogging and the very next day I was getting a call from my dermatologist in the hallway of Z.'s speech therapy offices. She said, "Your pathology report came back. The lab has called it severely atypical dysplasia, and they note on their report that they will not certify that it is not melanoma. blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah melanoma blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah don't worry blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah take care of this as soon as possible blah blah blah blah blah blah blah."

And then everything changed.

I had a pretty bad month. Every time I got myself calmed down someone would call and say, "So, I see you have melanoma..." and I would lose it again. I cried. I couldn't sleep. I kissed my kids over and over. I felt it. I saw it. The end.

Melodramatic? Perhaps. You can think that if you want. It's fine with me. Both of the doctors said they thought I was just being super cautious, smart given my family history. Everyone else said the word "melanoma" a heck of a lot, though. Over and over and over and over and over and over.

I thought about my mom. I obsessively lived her awful last days over and over. I had a small surgery. I hobbled around the house. My scar hurt. It reminded me of the bad thing. I struggled to find my footing, my optimism, my fight. I kissed the kids some more. I dutifully put the vaseline on the scar several times a day. I hated touching it. A lot. I gave K. all kinds of directives he didn't want to hear. I cried. I went back to the dermatologist and had another mole off. I rode my bike and played with the kids and made dinner and stayed out of the sun. I waited for calls. I grieved.

Finally, finally, I accepted that my life had changed in some indefinable important way and there was no going back. I started to work on making the new, less safe, less secure life ok. I fell in love with K. all over again. I determined that I would see my kids graduate college. I went outside for a bit. Coated in sunscreen. With a big, big hat.

[I know this is a really strange shot. I don't think the top of my ear is generally so greenish. My neck, while wrinkly, is not quite that wrinkly. My yard sadly is not that green, my garage is not that purple, and my forehead is not that...icky. We took it with my iPhone for documentary purposes. Also see me here.]

That was my summer. Well, there was a lot more but those were the highlights. Just like your's, right?

Posted by grrlTravels at September 8, 2008 8:55 PM