The last two weeks have been very hard for me. It is true that three weeks ago I spent twelve hours undergoing a medical procedure that included five hours in nuclear med looking for a lymph node related to my melanoma. Finally, one was chosen. The right one? Who knows.

Then in the surgical suite I had a a two-step surgery that  included removing chosen lymph node and then flipping me over for a deep, wide, long incision to remove any trace of melanoma cancer cells.

After twelve hours we went home.

Dr. French called to let me know they did not find melanoma in the node they decided was the sentinel node. Relief. My melanoma odyssey is new and a bit overwhelming.

My wound continued to bleed. Not serosanguinous drainage but thick dark blood. My son was instructed to pack the wound with iodoform and then  dress it. A daily process. Finally, it is improving. The rest of the wound is healing well. The wound under my arm has done well. Internal stitches plus surgical glue.

Why do I feel like this story is not done? I know melanoma likes to return. Yet, once surgery is done, so is treatment. If there had been melanoma in the lymph node, there would be more treatment. Not now. The sentinel node on the left would have to do. The curious node on the right was up against the internal jugular and too dangerous to remove. I wonder of this was where the cancer went? Time will tell.

I suppose it becomes a waiting game. Waiting to see it show up in another location. The treatment reminds me of  Wack a Mole. Another sighting. Another treatment. By the time it shows up in the brain, there is little to do except palliative care as Jimmy Carter knows. I hope this is not my destiny.