For several years I have avoided thinking about my experiences with cancer. I have had breast cancer, stage three thyroid cancer, and uterine serous cancer. Rare and caused by an aromatase inhibitor that was part of the treatment for breast cancer. I knew each cancer could return.  Maybe they all could return at the same time. Something I doubt. Each cancer treatment was invasive and thorough.  By the end of it I felt cured. This threat of recurring cancer seemed like a distant possibility. Nothing to worry about.  It seemed to be a distant thing. So, I was not worried.

So, something entirely different happened. My rheumatologist sent me to the VA  dermatology clinic. The big pimple on my forehead biopsied as basil cell cancer.  It was removed by Mohs surgery. All was well.

Then I had another visit. This  doctor checked my back and found two spots to biopsy. Even with a local anesthetic,  one of the  stabs with the knife  really hurt. On hindsight it probably was the deep one.

Next, I received a call from the doctor saying that she had sent the biopsy to the national lab. Time passed. She called to say I had melanoma, and it was very deep. It was 1.5 millimeter. Anything over 1 millimeter is not good.

Next was a surgical consult. The doctor asked questions. The concern was it might have metastasized. I left with a date for surgery and a new fear.

What if it had metastasized? That means it would probably be fatal. Maybe over a few years.  There was no cure. All the treatment is palliative care to shrink tumors and improve quality of life. So, I spent a week reading everything I could find on melanoma.

Malignant Melanoma, sometimes shortened to melanoma, is 2% of all skin cancers. Malignant Melanoma causes 70% of skin cancer deaths. Once it reached stage four, metastasis into the body, there is no cure.

I have worried more over this cancer. I feel that although I have had four other cancers, they were not fatal. I did not fear dying.  My fear is that it is my turn. My turn to be treated for cancer only to find it return and return until there was nothing left. And by the end of it all, there is  only the desire  to rest and have peace.

I worried. And I worried some more. Then I realized I have no symptoms that hint at metastasis. I felt as though I was good. No worries. The stage of the cancer is not determined until the surgical results are evaluated.

My worry and my research brought me to the conclusion that I had done everything that I could. So now is not the time to worry. I will move into my favorite cancer patient role as  a plodder. I work on one step at a time. I do what I am told to do. I have confidence in my doctors to do their best for me. And I will see what happens. I will let you know.