Support

So, last night I attended my first ever support group. It's taken two years to get me there but I feel like now, more than ever, I need to have a space where it's okay to have cancer. Where I can talk about my daily fears and the people there "get it." They have this stupid cancer too and they feel my pain acutely. The funny thing was it started like you would expect an AA meeting too - you all tell your stories and start to ask each other questions. The truth is that the face of cancer is as different as we all are. I guess there's value in hearing other people's struggles and successes. It brings a sense of reality to the statistics I read online. There was a woman there who had interferon treatment and it was very successful for her - that makes me hopeful. I have this fear that when it gets to that point you're done already. Morbid, yes, but it's how I feel.

They sort of all looked at me like - wow, we're sorry. You have the worst of this. Which is ironic because they all had positive lymph nodes and extensive treatment. They couldn't believe I never had anything but an excision. They were sympathetic to the fact that I had a reocurrence just two years from the month I had my first Melanoma and, well, I assume it's because of my age that they teared up when I started talking about the things that scare me.

I think it's a luxury for my husband and family to not think about Melanoma every day. I am jealous that they don't think they got a bum deal marrying me or that they don't think about me dying when they think about me being a Mom someday. I can't help it. It's my cancer and I live it every day. It's nice to be in the company of people who can understand that. It's nice to be with people who understand that even though I don't have a Melanoma today I still have Melanoma every day for the rest of my life.


Beverly Hospital
Beverly, MA
The Garden Conference Room
Second Tuesday of the month, 6pm

Stupid Cancer

April 2005 - Visit dermatologist and request biopsy of funny spot on my arm that's been there a while. It's skin colored and looks like a bug bit that never healed. Assured it's prob. just a white blood cell cyst.

A week later I get the call. it's inconclusive but we think you may have Melanoma. Hm. How can you be unsure whether or not I have the most deadly form of skin cancer? And you just want to cut it out? Yeah, that's not good enough.

After 3 of the longest days of my life, 200 phone calls and lots of pushing the Melanoma clinic at the U of M Cancer Center will review my slides and do their own pathology.

48 hours they call back. Can you come in tomorrow? I have Melanoma.

......this is a long story and it's going to take a while to get all in here....

Don't they always say, "never blame the victims?"

What does one call this? An ad or is it a public service announcement? And is there any chance that the girl in this picture is real....I find it hard to imagine. Your sister dies of skin cancer and you think this is the way to shock people? The way to scare them into understanding more about the dangers of the sun or the importance of early detection?

I tried to ignore this the first few times I saw it. Frankly, I'm not used to blaming cancer patients for their deaths.

60,000 people will be diagnosed with skin cancer this year and somewhere around 8,000 will die. I don't blame any of them.