Long, long summer

At the beginning of this year, my bestie and I were making promises to each other that the Summer of 10 would be incredibly amazing. 2009 sucked for both of us, leaving 2008 to be fondly remembered as the 'Summer of Love.'

This summer... could be whole hell of a lot worse. I just have to keep saying that. "It could be worse."

My summer started off well enough with:
  - good final grades in all my classes
  - a road trip from nowhere, Utah to over there, South Carolina. One hell of a drive, but it was a blast!
  - Surgery 2 days after that road trip
  - a good solid month spent on my couch, recovering

That 'little' surgery derailed my life. Well, not the surgery per say, but the thing that necessitated the surgery. (Also the reason why I've been so quiet over here)

I wasn't planning on talking about it here, as all the important people in my life knew, and I didn't (and still don't) want people to get all freaked out, and say they will do this and that for me. I just... didn't want it.  (Although, when my bestie and another friend forced their way into my apartment and cooked lunch for me, forced me to keep my butt on the couch, and just... sat with me, that meant a lot to me)

Well. I'll just come out and say it then. (and I'm honestly doing my best to avoid reading my textbook...)

In February The Boy found a new dark freckle on my lower back.  We kept an eye on it, and it steadily grew. Eventually raising off my skin, and then it started to change color. That is when I freaked the FUCK OUT. (Pardon the language friends - because it's true) 

I went to my school's student health center, and met with a PA* that made me extremely uncomfortable (seriously, tell someone before you try and stick your hand and a stethoscope up the back of their shirt!), and I cancelled the return appointment he made for me for the removal of the mole, and I went to a dermatologist. His PA was fantastic, and nicked that little mole off in seconds.

Then came a few weeks of not knowing. The nurses at the Dr's office told me that "no news is good news, but we'll call you if we find something."  I walked around in bliss, thinking, "Oh, well, it's taken care of. No big deal. Nothing to worry about."  Then, the week before finals (fabulous timing... ugh) I got a phone call.  I was told to come in, and "bring a second person, for support. As two pairs of ears are better than one."     ...the f*ck?! Moral support? Extra ears? WTF* is going on?!!! I immediately called my mom (as The Boy was at work) and she dropped things and came to the doc's office with me. 

I was told that my mole came back with abnormal results. It wasn't clear-cut melanoma (skin cancer), but a variation called Spitzoid Melanoma. "Great," I thought, "juuuust great. Not only do I have skin cancer, but I have weird skin cancer. FML*."   Oh, and it took about four or five pathologists to come to that conclusion.

After that, the ball rolled rather quickly. I was diagnosed (felt more like a death sentence) in April. Suddenly, I had an oncologist, with an appointment in a few days. (These people moved really fast, it was amazing)  I was told I was going to have a body check (seriously, not my fav* appt ever) to look for more moles. They found a mole to be concerned about, and lopped it off my ass. (Came back with abnormal results, but was told it was nothing to be concerned about)  Then, after my fantastic trip, I had surgery. After-which, I felt like I had been brutalized.  They took a huge chunk out of my back (and left a hideous scar) and 5 lymph nodes out of my groin. My back was tender, with a humongous bulky bandage that I couldn't take off for 5 days, and my groin? I could barely walk. (Turns out, I have an abnormal variation of lymph nodes, and instead of just scooping them out from under my skin, as they expected, they had to dig around in my pelvis to find all the ones they had tagged with blue dye. Basically, I had a hernia operation, without the hernia) The only cool thing? I peed blue the next 3 times I went to the bathroom. That made a lot me happier than it should have.

I slept through the next three days, and was honestly was  not in that much pain. I was off the Lortab within a week.  Then more bad news came. They biopsied my lymph nodes, and the tissue from my back, and it turns out that a few cancer cells had made it to one of my nodes. (little f*ckers)  In that appointment, I felt my heart hit the floor.  Good news though  was that there wasn't any visible spread in my back! 

(Ugh, sorry guys, this is turning into more of a novel than a post, and I'm sorry for the doom and gloom vibe)

After another week of healing I got a bunch of CT scans, and after I got all my staples out I had an MRI - just to make sure there was nothing else to be concerned about (because of the cancer cells they found in my lymph node).  All of my scans came back clean.

I thank God regularly for blessing me and my family through all of this.

And yeah, things could be a lot worse.

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* PA = physicians assistant      WTF = what the f*ck      FML = F*ck my life   fav= favorite

If you guys want to see pictures, let me know in the comments and I'll post some. They are rather gnarly. And horrifying.