Skin Cancer Update {warning, gory pics to follow}

 My life is never fair.  Lots of people get skin cancer and most of the time it's no big deal and easily treatable.  But not me.  Being diagnosed with skin cancer when I'm the most stressed, most busy, and most frazzled I have ever been in my life is further insult to injury.
I believe it was back in May that I noticed a weird zit thing along my hairline.  I thought nothing of it and left it alone and figured I'd deal with it after Henry was born.  While I was resting up in the hospital after the delivery, I finally had a moment to myself and started picking at this big zit.  It became quickly obvious that it wasn't a zit.  It didn't hurt to squeeze it and it was really gross.  Like it made me gag when I saw what was under the skin's surface.  After a quick search online I diagnosed myself with squamous cell carcinoma and made an appointment with the dermatologist for two days after I got home from the hospital.  The dermatologist, Dr. Miller, saw it and wasn't convinced.  Mostly because there wasn't much to see except a big scab from all my picking and he told me if it didn't heal in a month to come back.  Well, it didn't heal and I saw him two weeks later and he was startled.  That made me panic.  He did a biopsy and said I'd hear back in a week.  Twelve anxious days later the results came back:  squamous cell carcinoma.  I was right {of course}.

My cancer pre-surgery

I scheduled my Moh's surgery as soon as possible because the tumor was growing so fast and looked so gross I had to keep a band aid over it.  FYI, a Mohs surgery is when thin layers of cancer-containing skin are removed and examined under a microscope.  If there is still cancer, the doctor goes back in and scrapes away more tissue and this process is repeated several times until the cancer is gone.

I snuck this picture of the other patients in the waiting room

My surgery was the day before school started.  Randy cleared his schedule to stay home with the boys and a friend drove me to the doctor.  I was trying to be positive and optimistic but my gut told me this was not a simple case and I was right.  Dr. Miller opened me up, cut deep, temporarily bandaged me up, and sent me out to the waiting room with all the other patients who were having their Mohs procedure that day.  We were a sight!  Several people, all much older than I, with big bandages on noses, and cheeks.  I lucked out with mine being along my hairline.

cancer marked for mapping and cutting

taken after the first attempt

Five minutes later the doctor called me back because there was still cancer.  The second attempt was when things got bad.  They numbed me up again, {pain shot across my skull and behind my eye in a horrible way I will never forget} and then he started cutting again.  I couldn't see anything because a cloth was draped over my face but a nurse placed a warm metal plate on my stomach and told me to put my hand on it.  It was somewhat soothing as the room was cold but when I asked her what it was she told me it was a grounding plate so I wouldn't get electrocuted as the doctor cauterized my wound.  I wanted to scream.  Then I wished I'd brought ear plugs so I couldn't hear the sounds of my skin sizzling, over and over as he scraped away.  The smell of burning flesh and hair was horrible too.  Let's just say that a dental procedure has nothing on this!  Anyone who cries over a root canal should trying have Mohs surgery.  I felt something wet spray my face and imagined water was irrigating the huge hole in my head.  But I was wrong.  The spray was blood when he cut an artery!  Seriously how gory is that?!

The deep hole after the 2nd attempt

They cleaned me up as best they could and even tried to get the blood out of my hair so I didn't scare people in the waiting room, and back out I went to wait.  Eventually I got called back and sat down with Dr. Miller so he could tell me that there was still cancer.  He said I'd have to get radiation because he was worried if he went in a third time there could be nerve damage resulting in a droopy eye and paralysis in my forehead.  That's when I started to cry.
Knowing nothing about radiation except that I didn't want to do it, along with our insurance coverage ending in October when Randy starts his practice pretty much made me want to curl up on the floor and die.  The timing of all this couldn't be worse.

I went back out to the waiting room and when the old people asked if my scans were clear, I told them no and started to sob.  It was awkward.  I went over to the corner of the waiting room and started texting family and friends.  Randy quickly got the boys taken care of and came to be with me, meanwhile friends started texting, praying, stocking my fridge with food and cheesecake, and other supportive things.  Randy talked to the doctor, asked lots of questions and after discussing the options and after Dr. Miller explained things in technical/medical terms to Randy, we decided to risk the nerve damage and go in for a third time.  If my eyebrow drooped he could fix it with Botox.  So back to the table I went, with my warm plate and the smells and sounds of searing flesh.  {At this point I had been at the dermatologist for 6 hours.  That's longer than my surgery to have my colon removed!}  The doctor biopsied it and the results showed clear borders.  No more cancer!  We were thrilled!  I couldn't believe how happy I felt when just moments before I was sobbing to a friend asking her how I was going to tell my kids the horrible news.

Randy didn't get a third picture of the hole but this is the doctor pulling out the last of the cancerous tissue

 But the doctor was still concerned.  He sent the samples to another lab that would do a more thorough biopsy.  We just got those results back and they are cancer free too.  Hooray!  But I still have to do radiation.  The doctor is very concerned about how aggressive the tumor was, how deep it grew into the muscle {not typical}  how large it was {not typical}, and how fast it grew.  Most tumors of that size take a year or two to form.
I don't know what radiation will be like yet.  I have to wait for the wound to heal before radiation can start, but it will be daily for 2-3 weeks and the side affects will be fatigue and possibly nausea.  With my luck, I'm planning on both.  My wound has healed up quite nicely.  I have stitches on top of stitches and some bruising but my face only looked bad for a couple days.  I was worried I wouldn't be able to leave the house because of my appearance but makeup hid most of the discoloration.  Thank goodness because Landon got baptized four days later so I had to be in pictures.
I'm so thankful this scare went from something that seemed really bad to really doable.  I was at the end of my rope when I heard the word "oncology" and was in a really bad place for a couple hours. Thoughts of my mom's cancer swirled through my brain along with my children, medical bills, and Randy's new practice.  I was a mess.  I'm thankful for my good doctor and lots of prayers that turned this into something I can handle.  Sort of.  I still cried for several days after but I'm doing much better now.  Hopefully the radiation is no big deal.  I will let you know.