Sunday, October 7, 2018

I can’t get off this Ferris wheel

Two weeks ago after seeing my Dermatologist's , I sat in his parking lot fighting back the tears again. I will not cry.... I will not cry.... I've been through this so many times. This visit there were seven. Four were freeze burned and three were biopsied. Its that same old waiting game again.
  I can’t get off this Ferris wheel. Goes round and round, stops at the top, and finally moves a bit... Then back to the top and gets stuck.  Then the phone rings and I hear the nurse say to come in for surgery and as always the rest seems like a fog. Two of the three Biopsy's came back Basel Cell Carcinoma with malignant feeler margins.... so I’m stuck on this Ferris wheel for now. 
Mohs Surgery was scheduled and this morning my sweet husband went with me to Ruston, Louisiana to the hospital. Its never the same and yet it is. I dressed in my hospital gown and sat in the surgery chair.
The room is cold and instruments and medical equipment surround me. The Doctor comes in and we talk about the pathologist report on the two biopsy's. I'm then lowered down to a table position and my eyes taped close. You know the drill, Mrs. Hall. Couple of big sticks and we will start on the one under your eye. I cant feel anything now except the pressure of the tugging and the strange feeling while the blade cuts across making the incision. Doesn't hurt thou. My Doctor slices two layers, thin, like that of an onion skin. Then he cauterizes the area. The next step is to get those layers to lab to test the margins. I wait on the table all alone. The room is still cold and the silence surrounds me. Its peaceful. 
I imagine what it would be like laying in a morgue, waiting my turn. Its weird, right? But in that room alone for over thirty minutes, I wait, very still....and its so quite. The door opens suddenly and my Doctor pops in long enough to tell me the good news..."I got it all and Ill be right back to  close you up and do the one on your chest." He is gone only a minute or so and he and his nurse drape my eyes again and the Ferris wheel moves to the top again...
The  shots, the cut, the wait, the stitches. The wheel starts to move and the ride comes to a stop. We will see you next Friday to remove all your stitches.

My husband is in the waiting room and as I come back through the doors, he smiles, and I give him the good news. I wont get that hour and a half back in my life that time stood still in that cold and silent room. But at this moment, as I look up at his eyes, I know he had my back, the doctor had my health, But God held my hand and he heard and answered my prayers today.

Yes, I will continue to fight this. day alter day, Month after month. There will be other Mohs Surgery's, more freezes, and a lot of Ferris wheels to ride on. But I wont be alone.