Thursday 16th July
Preparing to go out this morning I am interrupted by a phone call from my dermatology nurse. She has the results of the lesion excision on my arm, two weeks ago. And the offending alien blob is called a dysplastic naevus. Sounds quite weird, like a synthetic cloud formation. But no, it’s an unusual, benign mole, that looks like melanoma, and you can’t tell if it’s dangerous or not, until it’s sent to the pathology lab. Therefore it must be surgically removed.
So, I’m left with a small scar, and a bit of an indent in my upper arm, but a huge sense of relief, dispelling the anxiety I’ve had for the last fortnight. Melanoma does that to you, the knowledge that it could come back, one day, sneakily, when you’re not expecting it. So, vigilance is the key, combined with regular check-ups. And maybe a few precautionary scars along the way.
This afternoon was #4 of my Cognitive Behaviour Therapy course. The topics covered today were Panic Attacks and Sleep Problems. Woo hoo.
Although I have never had a panic attack, I can relate to some of the typical actions and physical symptoms: foot tapping, sighing, palpitations, sweating, nausea, hot flushes, choking sensations, faintness, upset stomach.
Much of this could be the result of the imbalance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in my body, due to poor breathing and stress. Time to sort out the deep relaxation techniques and diaphragmatic breathing, methinks.
I do, however, have a problem getting to sleep, and then staying asleep. To much to think about, worry about, stress about. I’m restless, tossing, turning, clock watching, can’t switch off. And then I get cross because I cannot fall asleep, and that just makes it worse.
I do try some deep breathing techniques, drink decaffeinated tea, try to walk a reasonable amount every day, no big meals before bedtime, no phone or television in the bedroom, blackout curtains, window slightly open, and sleeping pills.
But the elusive good night’s sleep is eluding me at the moment. My thoughts always return to my son. He is everywhere around me and within me. It’s Thursday again, so it’s eighteen weeks, or one hundred and twenty six days since he gained his angel wings. And we still cry at his graveside.
Thinking of you.
Loving you always.
Darling child xx