September 12, 2011. That was the day my dermatologist told me the mole he removed 11 days earlier was malignant melanoma. As he explained how I would have to meet with an oncologist, a surgeon, and come back to him every few months for check ups, all I could do was cry. At one point I asked, "What are my chances?" Of course not knowing he said, "You'll have to ask your new oncologist." The worst part of that moment? Having to go out to the waiting room with a flushed face and tell mom I have cancer. Yeah, that was not fun.
Since that day, I have had surgery on my upper left arm which I now proudly display a 3 inch scar. I had 2 lymph nodes removed, and have had a PET scan, an MRI of my brain, and plenty of time to pray, think, and hope.
In November 2011, my local oncologist called me after my recent scans to tell me I have stage 3 melanoma. Actually before she told me stage 3, her assistant told me it was stage 4. So we all freaked, and my dad being a dad called and demanded which stage it was. After being told it's 3 I calmed down a bit. To this day my mom is mad my oncologist gave my dad information without my legal permission. I guess permission on the phone doesn't count. So a few weeks after that little taste of hell, I went to UVA to see a melanoma specialist. So it was pretty routine I guess. He gave me 3 weeks to decide which treatment I wanted. At stage 3, you get some crappy choices. Do a clinical trial on the chance your cancer has spread enough, watch and wait, (which we all know wasn't going to happen) and interferon. Interferon is like chemo in the fact that for the first month you go to the hospital and get an iv in you and sit for a few hours. However, no hair loss. So I jumped on that! Fast forward to December 15th. The oncologist cancelled my appointment and rescheduled for January 9th, 2012. No real reason other than he was going on vacation. The 9th rolls around...and he said, "In 3 weeks I want you back here to get a CT scan. Then we can discuss surgery." I asked, "So when do I start treatment?" He never gave me a straight answer. Not only that, but after he left the room so I could get dressed he never came back. I went home that night crying because I felt like I was on a waiting list for death.
Two days later I called my local oncologist and told her what happened. She immediately got in contact with a great doctor at Blue Ridge Cancer Care, who after hearing what I went through immediately scheduled a PET scan (it's been a few months), a surgical consult, a treatment consult and financial counseling appointment. I'm waiting to see when the PET scan is now, but at least I feel better knowing there's a doctor who will fight for me.
That's everything that's happened so far. Like a broken rollercoaster, but still going. :)
