Thursday, August 27, 2009

The 10% Society

Back in Madison, WI when I was getting my Bachelor’s degree, I would always look forward to going to dances at the student union hosted by the 10% Society, a gay & lesbian group on campus. I’d get dressed up, have some drinks with friends beforehand, and then get down to Madonna and all those other staples you want to hear when surrounded by a bunch of queers.

I got to be part of another 10% Society this week here in Portland, OR – but I get ahead of myself.

About nine months ago, I noticed the start of a strange growth underneath my left eye. At first I thought: okay, an annoying zit; then, a skin tag; then a mole. It wouldn’t go away, ended up growing a darker color, and started peeling. I made an appointment with a dermatologist through Kaiser, and when I went in last week for a consultation, the last thing I expected to hear from the nurse and doctor was that there was a 90% chance it was Basal Cell Carcinoma (BCC), a common form of skin cancer. Hey, if you’re going to get the big “C”, this is supposedly the kind to get – it’s easily treatable (unless you’ve gone a long, long time without having someone take a look at it), and if treated early on there’s only a 1-2% chance it will come back, at least in that same area. But wow, when you’re sitting there, and someone tells you that you most likely have cancer, the last thing you’re thinking about is how it’s the “good” kind of cancer, or that you caught it early on. You’re just suddenly feeling sad and scared and confused and maybe angry with some of your choices around being out in the sun, your diet, other lifestyle and health choices.

The doctor ended up having a cancellation last Friday, and I went in and had the growth cut out and stitched up. I’ve spent the last few days in a fog, letting the big “C” shadow my thoughts and my sleep and my interactions with people. Plus, I was feeling self-conscious that I’ve been walking around with this bandage on my face, but I’ve had an arsenal of “the other guy looks worse” comments in my back pocket should the need arise.

I go in tomorrow to get my stitches removed, and I’d been told I’d get the results of the biopsy at that time, along with the news – should the growth be cancerous – that I’d need to come in for a second, more invasive surgery to make sure they snagged the “root” of the cancer and thus prevented it from coming back again in that same area. Because of tomorrow’s appointment, the last thing I expected this A.M. while in the grocery store was to get a call from the nurse who – immediately upon my answering the phone – informed me the tests came back negative, I don’t have cancer, the growth was another skin anomaly similar to a mole, I don’t need the second surgery, and she knew I’d rather hear this now than wait until tomorrow’s appointment. I literally felt light as air, physically and psychically. All of a sudden things just got brighter and warmer.

But the lesson is not lost: this is a good reason to pause, a good wake up call in lots of ways. We all need to pay attention to our bodies and give ourselves regular examinations. We need to make sure we limit our exposure to the sun, and use lotions to prevent UV ray damage. And we all need to make sure we do our best to eat right, exercise, and overall take care of body, mind, and spirit.

Here’s a link I found that I thought I’d share with you about BCC:
http://www.skincancer.org/basal-cell-carcinoma/

I share this story so that you can all take a moment to pause and appreciate what you have, and also to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, that you’re paying attention to your body’s changes, and that you don’t wait too long should anything disconcerting arise. I'm lucky -- I'm part of the 10% who got the good news. Just make sure where you fall so that you can plan accordingly. And, finally, don't keep all this to yourself -- let yourself feel all your emotions, even if you think it's "no big deal." Intellectually, you may be aware with something like BCC that it's treatable and far down the totem pole of types of cancers, but your heart is probably telling you different things. Build a good support system. Being able to share this story along the way with my family, friends, and colleagues has made all the difference.

Namaste,
Nathan

3 Comments:

Blogger Leonard said...

I'm so happy for you that the news was good! I'm sure you looked good as a pirate.

27.8.09  
Blogger Marieke said...

whew! tense. thank you for the advice. my brother has just been diagnosed with a chronic illness and that fear and sense of unreality remind me of things I'd rather not think about.

28.8.09  
Blogger JB said...

Nathan! Nathan! We are all so happy you're healthy and continue to be cute as a button. Thank you for sharing your story and as usual, beautiful writing.

-girlfriend's mom

17.9.09  

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