Biopsy Results!

When you are confronted by the 'C' word — Cancer, you really can't predict how you will react. All of us are different. When you are told you may have that disease, you deal with it however you can. As a sufferer of health anxiety, I didn't cope with the prospect of having skin cancer too well. To say I was devastated, would be an understatement. All week I have been traumatised, living on nervous energy, and existing, like every day was my last.

This week has been hell, I really haven't known whether I am coming or going. I have very much lived in a bubble. I haven't spoken to anyone, including my husband, preferring to stay quiet — alone with my thoughts I was trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, before actually being diagnosed. In my mind, I had cancer and in my head, I was preparing for the worst case scenario. My mental health is quite simply in bits; I feel like I have run a marathon, haven't slept for weeks and literally been through the mill. I am shattered, tired and absolutely exhausted. This has been a hellish week and one I just want to forget.

The biopsy, itself, has really just been an inconvenience. It is in an awkward spot, in the middle of my back, which is making it really difficult to heal. Whether carrying a bag to work, sleeping in a bed, or sitting on a chair, the friction caused is just exacerbating the problem. I do have some pain from the site itself and having to put on a smiling face each day, has been difficult — especially after recovering from COVID.

My consultant at the mole scan clinic said, the results would be back within a few weeks, and that immediately sent me into panic mode. Health anxiety doesn't make allowances for diagnostic results. Each day of the waiting process is worse than the one before. For me, the 'not knowing' has been the worst part of this whole sorry episode. I can cope with the pain of a biopsy, even the threat of a positive cancer result, but the waiting period, for an anxiety sufferer, is a killer. I might as well lock myself away for a week — functioning at any semblance of normality, has been hard, and I have made myself ill just thinking about the consequences.

Within a few working days, my results had dropped into my health app on my phone. I immediately phoned the clinic for answers, to no avail. The Doctor hadn't looked at them yet, let alone analysed them. Despite pushing as hard as I could, the receptionist just couldn't give me any more information. Of course, my anxiety just increased, as I wondered why the results were not being released — 'what were they hiding!'

The next day, I phoned once more, and again I was given the same answer. The Clinician would phone me as soon as they knew, but 'rest assured they will do it in a timely manner.' This did bugger all to stem my apprehension, and I was probably more concerned than ever. Anxiety is a vicious cycle, as I found out this week, both physically and mentally, taking its toll. Anticipating these results has been lonely and extremely painful. I have lost three kilograms in weight and I look particularly tired and gaunt. Every morning I woke up at 1.30am, sweating, with a fast heartbeat, which as you can imagine, did nothing to alleviate my fears of a positive diagnosis.

By the end of the day, after my second phone call, the Doctor phoned back, while I was in the middle of some end of day paperwork. My heart immediately sank. However, she immediately told me the lesion on my back was benign and referred to it as 'fibrosis.' You just can't imagine the relief I felt at that moment — all of my anxiety immediately disappeared; I felt like a new man!

I resisted the temptation to research fibrosis on Dr Google, not wanting to detract from the good news, at least temporarily. After telling Darrell and my father the good news, I slept like a baby. Yes, I woke up at stupid O'clock in the morning, but there was no sweat, fast heartbeat nor anxiety, and I fell back asleep straight away. It was clear, I was going to live another day, and the relief was palpable.

As ever, with health anxiety, within 24 hours, I was concerned about another pain, this time under my tongue. Whilst searching a possible Squamous cell carcinoma diagnosis, just a few days before, some rather uncomfortable photos of affected tongues came up in my news feed, so I naturally jumped on the anxiety bandwagon once again. This time, however, I immediately jumped off; so far, ten days later, I am feeling chipper, in good spirits and avoiding the anxiety cycle of despair. Thankfully, so far, I am no longer dwelling on the worst life throws my way.

Thank you for all your messages of support and for just being there when I needed it most. This time I was lucky, when so many others are not. To all of you suffering with a cancer diagnosis: you are truly amazing people; your stories have helped me, during a particularly challenging time, and for that I am extremely grateful. Keep fighting, keep the faith — Health and happiness to you all!