It’s Benign!!!

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! It was not melanoma, or any variety of skin cancer. It was a blood mole–I had never heard of such a thing and google is a b*tch for never suggesting it could be anything other than melanoma. In fact google took my paranoia to a whole new level by informing me that in men nodular melanoma is usually on the trunk of the body, but in women it’s on the legs! I almost had a brain anneurism.

Here’s how it played out…

I cried off/on all weekend and had visions of what treatment would be like, how my family suffer through the same painful process that *I* endured when my Mom was diagnosed with terminal breast/lung cancer. How awful it would be for BG to have to grow up without a Mom–would she remember me? Would any of the memories be good ones? Would Mr. MLACS die too and would my good friend and fellow blogger Steph Mignon have to raise my kid??? So. Many. Thoughts. I was overwhelmed by all these thoughts and feelings.

I had a hard time getting to sleep and when I woke up Monday morning I wasted no time–I was going to ambush my dermatologist and insist he cut this thing off/biopsy it, and let me know how screwed I was. TODAY. I didn’t even make my coffee (you KNOW it’s serious) I just got in my car, called the dermatology office, and by some miracle they had an appointment with my doctor in 30 minutes, which was precisely my commute time.

I sat on the edge of my seat as I waited, my body buzzing with anxiety. And when the nurse called me back and asked me why I was there, I tearfully told her I’m afraid I have melanoma on the back of my leg. She looked worried and gave me a gown to put on. I was in suspense as the doctor walked in and I quickly moved to show him the black growth on the back of my leg. And he said…it looks like a blood mole but we’ll take it off and biopsy it. A blood mole. He told me to call if I hadn’t heard from them by Thursday.

After rebounding from the fear of cancer and the revelation of a blood mole, I sheepishly asked him if he had time to do my botox. He did. So I left the office with a hole in my leg and a face full of botox–I haven’t had botox since before my wedding in 2012 but my 20 year highschool reunion is coming up, I’m 38 years old and I have the money, so don’t judge me, ok?? Thanks.

Anyways, I called Mr. MLACS to give him the good news, and decompressed on the way home.

But then as Thursday approached and I hadn’t heard from my doctor’s office, my anxiety started to build. What if…

I called early Thursday (yesterday) morning but no one called me back. I thought “This is a bad sign”… I cried. I rocked back and forth. And I called again…the nurse put me on hold and I thought “Oh God, maybe she’s getting the doctor so he can tell me the bad news…” But she returned on the line and said gingerly “It’s a benign mole”. BENIGN. As in NOT cancer. A wave of relief washed over me.

But lemme tell you, this experience made a profound impact on me. I am slathering BG with sunscreen, even on her ears, because *90% of sun damage occurs during childhood*. I mean I used sunscreen and hats on her before, but now that she’s a threenager it’s a chore, as we do lotion on the face/neck and spray on the body. But I make sure she’s covered because it doesn’t take long to get a sunburn and just 5 sunburns in childhood DOUBLES your kids’ risk of skin cancer. So fight the good fight with the sunscreen folks.

As for me, I diligently use sunscreen but I also cover up a lot with hats and rash guards (shirts made of SPF50 material), since I am somewhat allergic to the sun these days. But I used to blow off moles that looked suspicious–now I am on high alert.

I’m also writing a piece for a local moms blog cautioning them to be ready with the sunscreen and also to take care to have themselves looked over by a dermatologist annually and pay attention to their skin. I feel like this experience was my “call of duty”, and I’m on it.

XOXO,

MLACS

 

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Oh My Heavens It’s SO BIG!

I feel absolutely INSANE.

I finally saw Dr. Angel yesterday afternoon (after “Super Soul Sunday”) and I warned him that I might start crying and if I did then he should understand that he’s not hurting me, I am just crazy, and it’s not his fault–so please don’t take it personally. And he smiled and told me that this was only the beginning and the hormones will get worse on the Bravelle. FML. And then he looked at my ovaries with the dildocam. Left ovary had two juicy follicles he measured (no idea what the measurements are in “infertility speak” cuz e’rybody always talks about triggering when their dominant follicles are “over 15”, etc. and I didn’t ask him to convert his measurements for me). And the right ovary had one juicy follicle but it was oddly shaped and appeared to have something protruding into it…Dr. Angel said, quote, “It may be a hemorrhagic cyst or something.” No mf*ing clue what “or something” may be. I remembered to bring the drugs and paraphernalia with me, expecting that Dr. Angel would teach me how to do the Bravelle shots. But he flipped the script on me and said he’d like for me to begin Bravelle tomorrow (today) so that he can see, quote, “If those follicles are leftover from the last cycle or if they are from this cycle.” I asked him how he would be able to tell and he said, quote, “If the follicles are new, then they should increase in size, but if they are old then they probably won’t.” Well, ok then. He offered to keep my Bravelle and accoutrements at his office, and I was glad because that’s one less thing for me to worry about. And I left, went home, and took my last Femara tablet.

I returned to Dr. Angel’s office today to have another US and (finally) get my first Bravelle shot. I gotta ask you guys, have you ever sat in a chair in the OBGYN or RE’s office that raises you up and tips you back so that you’re practically upside down and your lady parts are in the air at eye-level with your practitioner? The ultrasounds yesterday and today were my first experiences with this fancy chair, and I don’t hate it but it’s weird as hell, don’t you think? Just sayin’. So anyways, Dr. Angel first looks at my left ovary and measures the 2 follicles from yesterday, and I notice they have grown–hooray, they are “new”! And then…he looked at my right ovary…and WTF??? The potential ‘hemorrhagic cyst’ from yesterday that had been about the same size as the other two follicles now seemed to be taking up my entire f*ing ovary! I was like…”Um…is that seriously the follicle from yesterday?!” And he didn’t say much, he was just clicking away taking measurements and he even made a 3D color image of my ovary to get a better look. I was like, “Whoa dude, this looks bad, is it bad??” And he was like, “Nah, it looks like a hemorrhagic cyst”. And I was like “But from what I’ve read about other people’s cycles, the cycles get canceled when they have a cyst! Is this cyst gonna mess up my cycle?” And he was like, “No it won’t cancel your cycle.” And I was like “Cool–my right ovary can be delinquent as long as my left ovary is still in the game.” But really, I’m like, what the hell is wrong with my ovary??? I’m over here wondering if my Remicade + Clomid cycles have given me ovarian cancer or some sh*t. And when I think I might have ovarian cancer, the first thing that pops into my mind is “Please Lord, let Dr. Angel ignore my ovarian cancer and let me get pregnant and have a baby before I die, Amen.” I am such a whack job.

Then, it was FINALLY time for me to get that Bravelle shot. And all along I was thinking I would give it to myself in my stomach. But Dr. Angel is pointing at his butt saying “So you’ll want to make sure you don’t hit your sciatic nerve…” and I’m thinking…”Damn, how the hell am I s’posd to give myself a shot in my ass”…I’m flexible but this seems unrealistic/unfair. And then…I see this GIANT MF*ING NEEDLE and I’m like “Lord Jesus are you serious?! Is THAT the needle?! How big is that??!” And Dr. Angel is just showing me how to mix the Bravelle with the filler solution but I am not even paying attention because I’m too busy looking at this ridiculously HUGE needle. It’s a good thing I’m not a curious person and I hadn’t examined the contents of the box Freedom Pharmacy sent except to make sure the meds were there, cuz I might’ve changed my damn mind. I asked Dr. Angel what size needle that was, hoping that my eyes were deceiving me, but he said “23” and my face fell–it really is as big as it looks. I was still pants-less holding a sheet around me as I’m watching Dr. Angel get the shot ready, and finally it was time and I held the sheet awkwardly with one hand (so Dr. Angel had access to my buttock) and grabbed the counter with the other hand…and…it wasn’t that bad. But I’m gonna be straight with you: my ass is still sore from it. And for the record I’m not afraid of needles–been stuck countless times for bloodwork and IV’s and even had Botox on my face a few times (don’t judge me), but those needles were child’s play compared to this one. Damn. Luckily, I have to have an ultrasound every day and I’m only taking the Bravelle 75iu once a day, so I looked at Dr. Angel and said “I will seriously pay you extra if you will give me these shots.”

Can I also mention (of course I can but you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to) that my Dad has a girlfriend. Any of you out there whose Mom/Dad passed away and you’ve had to deal with your living parent dating while also dealing with the loss of your other parent? Well…it’s been rough. My sister openly HATES the girlfriend and will have NOTHING to do with her. I’ve been living away from home for most of this time so I only have to see her occasionally because she lives 2 hours away and they alternate weekends (he goes there, she comes here). I don’t like her, but I don’t hate her. However, the girlfriend has two sons and they seem to really like my Dad. And these sons have small children of their own. And…all of a sudden lately ALL my Dad talks about when he comes home from visiting the girlfriend is playing with her adorable grandchildren. Today, he even told me what he intends to get each of her grandchildren for Christmas! Can somebody PLEASE take the dagger giant syringe out of my still-beating heart?! And he fuggin’ knows exactly what I’m going through–I’ve told him everything. He’s just stupid. That is all. XO

 

Syringe to the Heart