malignant | The Journey of My Left Foot (whilst remembering my son)

Thursday 23rd May

Not really feeling it today; a bit down, depressed, and teary.

Didn’t particularly want to get out of bed. But, having pulled the mask of a cheery, smiling face across my own; time to get moving.

Sometime during the afternoon, the Macmillan nurse calls, informing me of her findings, having spoken to the team in Exeter. Apparently, as a consequence of having the surgery for a wider excision, plus the skin graft, that now prevents me from having the lymph node biopsy. She was very negative, and seemed to be telling me off for having gone ahead with the removal of further skin and tissue, around the site of a large malignant melanoma. I’m sorry, but the sooner this was carried out, with such expediency, by an experienced professional, who had my best interests in mind, then I’m all for it. Telling the nurse that my consultant had indicated I could always have a delayed lymph node biopsy made no difference. All she seemed to want to inform me was that I had scuppered my chances of this type of treatment. Having had the open wound for 15 days, I was incredibly pleased the alien blob, and its surrounds, had been well and truly banished.

Following that phone call I felt extremely confused, upset, and anxious.

Professional? Sensitive? Caring? Thoughtful?

She also informed me I would be receiving an appointment for a CT scan soon, and perhaps the possibility of taking part in clinical trials, involving specialist ultrasound, at the Royal Marsden in London. But by then, I’m afraid I had switched off somewhat.

I just want to be rid of whatever is preventing me from living my life normally.

On Thursday afternoon, 16th May, the Macmillan nurse phoned whilst I was on the computer doing some school work. She had the results. As far as my back was concerned, the results came back negative, but they would probably err on the side of caution, and carry out a further, wider, deeper excision, at some point.

She then asked me if it was alright to continue talking over the phone about these results. There was something in her voice that told me it wasn’t going to be good news. And it wasn’t. The alien blob from my foot, was indeed a melanoma.

I couldn’t speak, I didn’t know what to say, nodding my head and tightening my fist until my nails dug into my palm.

I should be going to Derriford hospital tomorrow for a wide local excision with skin grafting. But she continued to tell me that I would probably just be going to Plymouth for a chat with my consultant, and then come straight home. It was unlikely that I would have the operation.

Continuing with her outlining of events, she said that the MDT had met the previous Tuesday morning, with my results appearing that same afternoon. It was probable I would be sent to Exeter for further surgery, but not until the team had met this coming Tuesday, and discussed their cases.

I would have a sentinel lymph node biopsy at the same time as the surgery on my foot, along with the skin graft. The biopsy meant injecting a blue, radioactive dye at the site of the wound, and then looking for an offending nodes that had turned blue. These would then be removed in the hope of stopping the spread of the disease. The nearest lymph nodes to my foot were those in my groin.

It was a long phone call, where she did most of the talking. It left me scared, confused, unsure, and made for quite a sleepless night.

What should we do?

Will the operation go ahead?

Will it be worth driving to Plymouth at all?

And what of the melanoma, what were the implications for me?