07-14-08
Almost Saving Face
Dr. Osbourne sat us down in his office and very seriously asked, “If during surgery we discover that the cancer has spread deeper into your face do you want us to remove your nose completely or save your face and opt for intense rounds of radiation risking a 50% recurrence rate?"
It was past midnight and my fiancé and I lay awake staring at the stucco ceiling above our brand new California King mattress. It's possible to sleep in this bed without even realizing that you're sharing it. But tonight we lay in the middle, side by side, holding tightly to each other's hands.
Really? Was I really being asked to cut off my nose to spite my face? We knew we wanted kids and I was young; so if losing my nose could save my life, our lives, then I guess OK. Bring on the magnetic nose. Make it cute and buttony, like Halle Berry's. They have those you know. Up until this night I had been dealing only with the moment to moment. The pet-scans, the biopsies, the pain-killers, the waiting rooms. Suddenly I was confronted with the future and for the first time in over two months and seven surgeries we realized the gravity of our situation.
It's simply fight or flight. You either face your fear or you run from it. Or maybe you grab it by the balls and drag it alongside of you hoping it wears itself out. I had all but forgotten about the fear that I had been dragging behind me like an IV on wheels. We had faced head on the fact that my particular squamous cell carcinoma had dug itself so deep into my facial tissue that it was threatening the bone, something that only occurs in 1 in 700,000 woman under 35. Hmmm, we thought, with this kind of luck, maybe we should play the lottery. I had already been under anesthesia seven times and lay awake for one Mohs surgery. By the way, if you ever have to have Mohs and they offer to put you to sleep, take it. During mine, a miniscule nerve was lightly brushed causing my entire forehead to turn white and a hot dog sized vein to bulge. Ouch! I had a fairly significant 1" x 1" hole in my face showing a clear, albeit bloody, passage to my half removed septum and I think my brain and yet I still wasn't rattled. Not until this exact moment. Suddenly my positive attitude filled with hope was tail spinning into fear. The little bitty bump on my nose had turned into a gigantic hungry monster.
I sat straight up in bed and burst into my first round of tears. Oh my GOD! What is happening to us? I don't have cancer. People with cancer feel sick and lose their hair. They have breasts removed and are prescribed “cocktails." I've witnessed friends and family suffer through real cancer, even die. I felt like a phony. This isn't real cancer. It can't be. You can't just one day die from a little bump on your nose. Can you?
And just like that my fear jumped into my lap and gave me a huge slap iacross my bandaged face. “I'm back," it screamed. “Did you miss me?"
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Writing Menu
 09-24-08
Almost Embarrassing
07-14-08
Almost Saving Face
06-14-08
Almost Missionary: Rated X for Sex
03-19-08
Almost Evil
02-12-08
A SIMPLE PHONE CALL
02-03-08
About
01-13-08
Almost a Woman
11-13-07
Almost Everyone
08-13-07
Almost Mrs. Webb or Bridal Brain
06-11-07
Almost Ready
03-12-07
Almost Fired
12-01-06
Almost Gay
10-12-06
Is It Hot Yet? by Angela Kurian and Shannon Noel
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