a Van Gogh moment
I went upstairs to fix my pigtails, putting my hair up for the beginning of the road trip. I looked in the mirror and noticed a dark spot on my ear. Huh! Too much sun from living in California, I thought, I'll ask mom, see what she says. So, I hopped downstairs and pointed out the mole to mom, thinking she would say sure, whatever, looks fine. But her response was something more like: huh, maybe we should take it off? Do you want me to take it off? My mom made a few calls, and my dad picked up some surgical supplies from the clinic in town. We postponed the trip for a few hours.
Better safe than sorry we all thought. I was annoyed, but thought it should be done, a couple hours wasn't going to make much difference on our month long trip. My ear was numbed, my mole plunked into formaldehyde and sent to pathology: routine for any biopsy.
Off we went to Portland, Montana, Wyoming, Yellowstone and the Tetons, when my mom called with the results. Well, she said, your labs came back, and the pathologist couldn't decide if it was dysplastic (changing rapidly) or a melanoma... they sent it to OHSU (the university medical school in Portland). Not to worry, she said, wear sunscreen, it's probably fine.
We drove on to South Dakota, to Rushmore, Wind Cave National Park and on to Iowa and Wisconsin. Then the second phone call: a melanoma. I think I was a bit numb, I think I said you're kidding. I sat on it for that afternoon and in the morning I actually read my pathology report. "Despite the patient's young age, the findings are consonant with melanoma... Additional treatment to ensure complete removal would be prudent." I started making phone calls. It started to sink in: A melanoma: the deadliest of all skin cancers.
The problem was mainly that I was somewhere in Iowa, we were heading to Virginia and my insurance company is in Oregon. My first call was to UNC Chapel Hill, but they required an initial appointment and they were booked out through to November. I then called University of Virginia Dermatology. By this point I was sobbing and could barely answer questions. The original receptionist was very kind and transferred me to surgery; surgery transferred me to a head and neck specialist. The head and neck specialist was an answering machine. I left a message and continued to call other physicians, my mom, my insurance company, but to no avail. No one wanted to take my insurance, those that would see me without insurance refused to give me an estimate for the procedure. Those that would accept my insurance had no space or time for me. I was beginning to panic.
At one point I seriously considered taking a knife to my own ear, going to the ER and having it stitched up. At least I would get treated, (and quickly!), and it would probably be a lot cheaper. I just wanted the cancer to go away, and no one seemed to care. At 4 pm, just before all offices close, my mom called. I had an appointment in Oregon in two weeks. And following that appointment, I had another to get my entire body checked for additional precancerous or cancerous moles. Why? My chances of getting another melanoma just jumped 14% higher as I've already had one.
Better safe than sorry we all thought. I was annoyed, but thought it should be done, a couple hours wasn't going to make much difference on our month long trip. My ear was numbed, my mole plunked into formaldehyde and sent to pathology: routine for any biopsy.
Off we went to Portland, Montana, Wyoming, Yellowstone and the Tetons, when my mom called with the results. Well, she said, your labs came back, and the pathologist couldn't decide if it was dysplastic (changing rapidly) or a melanoma... they sent it to OHSU (the university medical school in Portland). Not to worry, she said, wear sunscreen, it's probably fine.
We drove on to South Dakota, to Rushmore, Wind Cave National Park and on to Iowa and Wisconsin. Then the second phone call: a melanoma. I think I was a bit numb, I think I said you're kidding. I sat on it for that afternoon and in the morning I actually read my pathology report. "Despite the patient's young age, the findings are consonant with melanoma... Additional treatment to ensure complete removal would be prudent." I started making phone calls. It started to sink in: A melanoma: the deadliest of all skin cancers.
The problem was mainly that I was somewhere in Iowa, we were heading to Virginia and my insurance company is in Oregon. My first call was to UNC Chapel Hill, but they required an initial appointment and they were booked out through to November. I then called University of Virginia Dermatology. By this point I was sobbing and could barely answer questions. The original receptionist was very kind and transferred me to surgery; surgery transferred me to a head and neck specialist. The head and neck specialist was an answering machine. I left a message and continued to call other physicians, my mom, my insurance company, but to no avail. No one wanted to take my insurance, those that would see me without insurance refused to give me an estimate for the procedure. Those that would accept my insurance had no space or time for me. I was beginning to panic.
At one point I seriously considered taking a knife to my own ear, going to the ER and having it stitched up. At least I would get treated, (and quickly!), and it would probably be a lot cheaper. I just wanted the cancer to go away, and no one seemed to care. At 4 pm, just before all offices close, my mom called. I had an appointment in Oregon in two weeks. And following that appointment, I had another to get my entire body checked for additional precancerous or cancerous moles. Why? My chances of getting another melanoma just jumped 14% higher as I've already had one.
posted by humble bee at 5:54 AM
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