Things couldn’t get better right? Well this is where things start to go pear shaped. In late July I was told by my employer of 8+ years that my role would be getting made redundant. I work in software sales as a Senior Solutions Consultant and there are plenty of roles out there, so I decided not to sulk and instead enjoy a few weeks of rest and relaxation before I found my next perfect job. This is where things really started to go pear shaped. No, I’m not going to whinge about all of the recruiters that are ignoring my applications or turning down my expert skills. I could write a whole new blog post about this.

A few weeks into my rest and relaxation I noticed that a mole on my inner left forearm had started to look black and had become raised. For years I’d had a red mark on the same area of my arm with a couple of moles sitting in it. Lisa had nagged me for years to get it checked, but being a typical man I said ‘I’m fine. I’ve had it for years. Nothing to worry about!”. Anyhow, getting back to the mole I thought to myself that it would probably go down soon and it was probably bloated cos my watch was too tight, causing it to swell. A few days in and the bloating and blackness was still there. I didn’t want to worry anyone so kept it to myself. A few more days go by and it’s still there, so I finally pluck up the courage to go to the doctors. I didn’t want to worry Lisa, so I tell her that the appointment is a box ticking exercise just to check my general health as I am the wrong side of 45. 

The doctor is lovely and she asks what’s up. So I tell her confidently that I have had this red mark on my arm for years and that I have noticed recently that the pesky mole has risen above my skin. She gets her magnifying glass thing out and gives it a a good look. She tells me that the redness can probably be sorted with some cream (that’s a result – it was worth going!) but then she adds that she’d like a dermatologist to take a look first, just to get it properly checked before prescribing the cream. Not knowing who or what a dermatologist is, I went home feeling pretty happy that this should be easy to fix. The doctor says that I should get an appointment in the next few weeks which I thought was impressive because you hear all these stories about having to wait for months for medical appointments. 

A few days later and Lisa and I went on a long weekend in Dorset with our cockapoo, plus Lisa’s mum, my mum and her other half and my brother and his other half and my niece. A really nice family getaway. We were having a great time and then suddenly my heart sinks. The doctor is right, the dermatologist did indeed get in touch pretty sharpish to set up an appointment within a few weeks of my doctors appointment. There’s just one problem, I notice that the letter also says that the appointment is for suspected skin cancer. We’re having such a nice time, and Lisa and her mum and my brothers other half are just about to go and enjoy themselves at a local spa, so I didn’t want to ruin this for Lisa by telling her that I may have cancer so I decided to keep this to myself. So off they go to enjoy themselves leaving me with nothing but my thoughts for a few hours. Lisa comes back a few hours later after having a great time feeling nice and refreshed and I was really happy for her, cos I’d have given anything to feel the same way. She could tell something wasn’t right with me, so I just blurted it out. “That dermatologist appointment says it’s for suspected cancer!”. She couldn’t have been more supportive and was just what I needed. I asked her to keep this to herself because I didn’t want to worry anyone else, particularly as it was only suspected at this point so could have easily not been skin cancer. 

As the appointment was a few weeks later, I tried to not think about it too much because I think that may have driven me crazy with worry. I also chose to not talk too much about it as well – you’ll see that there is a theme here that I keep things to myself. As other people will tell you, it probably is the worst thing you can do. 

So the day arrives for the dermatologist appointment and Lisa and I are sitting in a waiting area at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford, which luckily is one of the best hospitals in the UK if not the World. I’m looking at everyone waiting wondering what they are in for, and whether they are feeling the same as me which is pretty nervous. Eventually my time comes and I am called in to see the doctor.

As with my own doctor, she gives the red mark and the pesky mole a good check and she explains that there could be a few reasons for the mark/risen mole. Best case it could be a birth mark behaving badly/worst case it is a type of skin cancer (melanoma). I know which one I am hoping for! Just to be safe, she also recommends that she gives me a thorough check over to see if there are any other suspicious moles. If you haven’t ever been to a dermatologist/had a check, make sure you are washed/shaved etc and ready to be literally check everywhere. No stone (or in this case skin/body part) is left unturned! Luckily for me nothing else is found after my body interrogation. After the check, the doctor wants a second opinion on my red mark/risen mole so she asks for a colleague to take a look.

After some skin prodding, some circles are drawn around a couple of moles surrounded by the red mark. “What we’d like to do” she says “is take some samples from the moles to see what’s going on”. I’m told that they would check the samples to diagnose if there was an issue. I wonder if this would be immediate but I am told that I’d need to come back in a few week weeks for the procedure. I also wonder what would happen if the worst case scenario were to become reality. I’m then grabbed by the arm again and am told that the whole of the red mark, including the moles, will be cut out and my skin squeezed back together. My arms are pretty thin and there isn’t a lot of spare skin so the worrying thoughts then start to come back with things like “what will my arm look like after?” going through my mind. 

As I leave the doctors office I’m told to go to reception to book the next appointment. Again, I’m thinking that this will be months later hearing all these stories about the NHS. So I get to reception and the receptionist says that they’ll be in touch soon with the next appointment date, but suddenly his face changes when he sees my paperwork and says “I’ll be back in a sec”. Sure enough he does come back pretty quick and tells me that my procedure has been booked for 3 weeks time. Wow, this is impressive (or scary that they are acting so quickly). As always, Lisa is my rock and is acting cool as a cucumber which is just what I need. 

So, you know the story by now, I’m waiting until the next appointment choosing not to think about it and not speaking about it. But secretly I am worried that at some point a huge chunk of my forearm may be cut out of me, not the fact that I may be living with a killer in my body!