Ten years ago today

Ten years ago today....

....I was a scared "little girl" in a hospital gown.

I started my day in radiology, where the tech gave me four injections of radioactive dye directly into my scalp.

I remember listening as the tech described to me (6 months and 2 days before my wedding) the three places where the dye could likely end up, indicating the spot the surgeons would take out lymph nodes to see if the melanoma had begun to spread.

As I lay perfectly still to let the dye do its thing, I recall the huge tears rolling down my cheeks as the tech said something along the lines of, "Oh, how interesting. Looks like it will be the lymph nodes by your ear." And I thought (mistakenly), that the lymph nodes would be removed from in front of my left ear, leaving a huge noticeable scar on my face for my wedding.

I can still feel the relief I felt - ten years ago today - when I realized that the removal of the lymph nodes would be from behind my left ear and would not, in fact, ruin my perfect wedding.

I had no idea what lay ahead that morning, ten years ago. My biggest fears, believe it or not, revolved around how they would bandage the spot on my scalp where they removed the golf ball sized circle of skin. Would they wrap my entire head in bandages? Would I look like a mummy?

Believe it or not, my fears on that morning did not include the post-operative pain. They did not include whether the cancer had spread or would return. My fears were all cosmetic. All vain. What would I look like while I was bandaged? What would I look like on my wedding day? Would I ever again be able to leave the house without a hat? Would people point and stare for the rest of my life?

One of the most vivid memories from the hospital stay (at Emory...the teaching hospital) is the sheer volume of people that came in and out of my room to look at me all day and night. Since the skin for the graft onto my scalp had come from my hip, there is no telling how many residents and such saw my hiney in that 24 hour period.

I remember being semi-conscious in pre-op, trying to look over to see if they had finally gotten my IV started, and hearing the nurse (or resident) say, "Oh, honey, you don't want to look over here. You don't need to see all this blood." I also have the distinct recollection of believing that everyone had gone to lunch and left me there on my gurney alone, having forgotten to deliver me to my surgery before they left. (I'm still not sure that wasn't the case.)

Oh, and I remember asking my mom to apologize to that nurse in recovery for me, because I was pretty sure I had been just awful to her.

Finally, I remember being embarrassed about the fact that I was 27 years old and had my teddy bear in my hospital bed with me. But not embarrassed enough to give it up.

I had no idea that the recovery would be as hard as it was. For two days, I could not lift my head without picking it up with my hands. Because in order to get those lymph nodes from behind my ear, the surgeons had to cut through some of the muscles in my neck. I had no idea that the graft site on my hip would be one of the most painful parts of the recovery, or that I would feel as if someone was dragging me around by my hair for two weeks (because of the fact that they had sewn the bandage to my scalp - but, hey, at least I didn't look like a mummy, right?). I had planned to go back to work - or at least to work from home - within a matter of days. Little did I know that my most intense activity for several days after the surgery would be pensively studying the contents of the bookcases in my parents' living room in my drug-induced stupor. Every time my mom asked if I wanted to watch tv or read a magazine, I remember thinking that just sounded like too much work.

Nevertheless, now that all is said and done, I am grateful. So grateful that my hairdresser found the melanoma when she did and was willing to ask me about the weird, blackish-purpleish spot on my head. So grateful that the skin surrounding the melanoma, nor the lymph nodes, showed any signs of spreading. So very grateful I never had to have any radiation or chemotherapy following the surgery. And, so grateful that I did not know on that morning - ten years ago today - what lay ahead.

I believe God shielded me from that knowledge and let me dwell on the cosmetics and vanity until it was time for me to experience the post-op struggles. Sometimes, instead of grace to handle the situation at hand, maybe God intentionally gives us ignorance. Because, after all, maybe sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

Today, I am grateful to be a cancer survivor. I am grateful that my brush with cancer was so much less life-altering than it could have been - and than it is for so many others. I am grateful for my thick hair that mostly covers up the garish bald spot on my scalp. I am grateful for friends and family who helped me through the rough patch. And, I am grateful for my God who was and is so much bigger than melanoma.