The “C” word
Posted on August 15, 2008
Filed Under Australia - The land down under, Irony Anyone?, Breaking news, A "How-to" tutorial of insanity |
Recently, we had a bit of a cancer scare at home. And by “a bit of” I mean full blown panic. A large portion of my family has been lost to cancer of one kind or another so I can be a bit paranoid at the slightest change in a mole or freckle much less the dreaded word tumour.
My father passed away from a melanoma on his cheek, a gruelling and terrible thing to witness, so when my husband had a bump in his nose checked out and the doctor as much as blurted “Cancer!” I went into full meltdown mode…
Upon recovery, we made plans to see a specialist and have the offending “bump” removed. It turned out to be a full blown surgery that had Brian in the hospital all day and rather groggy that night. Thankfully, the pressure that had preceded the operation has eased instantly, leaving him feeling a bit better.
From there, it was simply the waiting game. Wait for pathology to check it out, wait for another appointment with the specialist. Wait, wait, wait…
I hate waiting in the queue at the bank, this nearly did me in!
Finally, we managed an appointment after the results had come in. The verdict was…non-cancerous tumour.
There is, however a 30% - 40% chance of it growing back and there is no guarentee that it won’t be cancerous next time, so Brian is meant to go back to the doctor shortly for a post op exam and then every 3 - 6 months for follow-ups to make sure there is no re-growth.
It’s certainly not something I’d ever wanted to have to go through with my husband, and I think I uderstand a little more how my mother felt when my dad went in to have a “little bump” checked.
Somehow, knowing that there is always going to be the possibility of disaster is more real now. You don’t think about getting hit by a bus everyday of your life, but a near-miss will make you look both ways…twice.
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Cancer, to me, is the nastiest, scariest word there is in the English language. My family doesn’t have much of a history of it, neither does Stephen’s, but that by no means protects us from it.
I remember when your Dad got sick and, of course, I remember when he died. At the time, being younger, I remember being shocked that a growth on the skin of his face could kill him.
This episode with Brian must have been scary for you, all of you.
Yea, it certainly was an eye-opener. I kind of thought that cancer had messed me around enough over one lifetime that I was somehow immune. Obviously not. It is something that one must forever be vigilant about.
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