More cutting.

Yesterday I went under a general anesthetic, and it was scary!  I have only ever been under a general twice in my life and both times I ended up admitted to hospital.  Both times were suppose to be day surgery only.  I don't come out of them well, so yesterday had me feeling some anxiety and panic.  Thankfully, I came out of this one incredibly well and was home in time for dinner and bed.  Today has me in a great deal of discomfort, some nausea and feeling like utter crap.  Tomorrow will see me home from work, and I finally have a boss that understands and sympathises so is not at all put out over this surgery and the after effects.

Usually a surgery such as this one can be done under a local anesthetic, but because they were going to be cutting quite deep inside the virginal wall it was not advisable and could've gone wrong.  As it was, they couldn't take margins due to where they were cutting, and if the biopsy comes back Cancerous then it will have me seeing specialists to see what can be done.  I never thought Skin Cancer could see me end up in a Gynecologist clinic.  I never knew how deadly it could be either, so I guess I am still on the learning path with this Melanoma of mine.  I don't think the learning ever stops.

And why is it under the Skin Cancer category?  No other Skin Cancer can travel to your organs and only Melanoma can grow without the aid of skin, and at an alarmingly fast speed.  Melanoma is the rarest form of Skin Cancer yet the deadliest so why does the Black C belong in this category?  It doesn't.  It belongs to none.  It is a disease like no other and should be treated as such.

I wish I had known just how dangerous this horrifying beast is.  I wish I had never become so intimate with it.  I am one of the lucky ones.  With all the scars, surgeries, hospital visits  and checkups I am still going strong.  And I have a good chance of continuing the battle for an incredibly long time.  I have allowed myself to care about fellow Melanoma warriors, and I have mourned the loss of courageous victims of this killer disease.  It is not only heartbreaking when you hear about fellow warriors losing their battles, but it is scary.  The fear invades me as it is the same disease that is currently being fought by myself.  It is personal, and it is terrifying.

Letter to an enemy

Dear Melanoma,

I would like to say a big Fuck you, and yes it is directed at you.  You came into my life just over 2 years ago, and I must admit that at the time I did not realise just how serious you can be.  When I was told by the doctor that I had a very nasty Skin Cancer, I honestly thought it would be a simple case of cut and cure.  Oh how ignorant I was.

Three surgeries to remove you, a Sentinal Node Biopsy (which had me admitted to hospital), excruicating nerve pain tormenting me even to this day, 10 biopsies later and here we still are, entwined together, unable to pull apart.  

Will you ever let go?  I now face yet another biopsy, and it shall be the scariest one yet.  Something has appeared on the inside virginal wall and it has caused the doctor to refer me to the Gyno clinic at the hospital for a biopsy.  I have no idea what this will involve but am pretty certain it shall not be pleasant.  I know Virginal Melanoma only happens to 1% of all female Melanoma victims, and I cling to that with hope.  But, I also never thought that Cancer could happen to me, until it did.  So now I wait for that letter confirming yet another hospital visit and I try my best to preoccupy myself.  And I realise that as much as this wait tears me apart, it will be the wait for the test results that have me torn into tiny little pieces.

I compare you to an inactive volcano.  You lie there dormant, with the possibility of erupting at any time with vengence.  I just hope you stay in that dormant state forever.  I hope you never erupt and flow through my body like a river of lava.

Sometimes I wonder if you are there within where I cannot see you, maybe hiding within a lung or engraving yourself upon my brain.  Every headache I experience has me slightly frightened, every inner bruise has me mildly fearful and everytime I feel run down the paranoia sits there at the surface.

You have given me so much, and none of it good.  The scars remain and the body turns on me from time to time.  And let's not forget the mental anguish, fear, sadness and self-pity that comes with knowing you.

So therefore, I am requesting that you please stay the hell away from me and allow me to grow old so I can watch my boy grow into what I am sure will be a wonderful loving man.  Considering you have robbed me of being able to bring another child into this crazy world, it is the least you can do for me!

Hating you,

Becca.

What happens when you work in Hell

I was dismissed from my job just 2 days before my birthday.  14 days before Christmas.  After almost 5 years of working my arse off on minimum wage for a company I wouldn't trust to be able to organise a fuck in a whorehouse.  In all those years I endured bullying and discrimination at it's finest, yet I still stayed.  Yes, I did approach the right person about the bullying.  No, this did not achieve anything.  I was the employee under the care of Mental Health.  I was the misfit with Cancer.  I was the one who spoke up for what I believed in.  I refused to be a Muppet, and this was unacceptable.

The dismissal started with me approaching someone about issues there were after a small fire had made itself at home in the building.  The conversation lead to other issues and this person decided to twist what I had said to suit himself.  I now know why staff do not like communicating with him, and why staff have resigned in the past in order to get the fuck away from this Demon.

I then made the mistake of expressing my anger and frustration on Facebook after being made to feel intimidated by this Demon and another staff member printed it out and took it into work.  I did not mention the company nor the Demons and Devils by name.  To make matters much more interesting, I decided to fight fire with fire when I discovered this latest evilness and I printed her nasty vicious comments made to me which actually mentioned a manager by name,  I also made Human Resources aware of her bullying and lying about being dismissed from her previous job.  She has kept her job.  I have to wonder if they are aware that to treat these cases differently, it is discrimination.  

It was Wyatt's stalker that printed my Facebook page out.  Indeed, my son has already had someone obsessed with him, and he is not even 2 years of age.  Within the first few days of being home with this prem baby of mine, KA was texting and calling me from early morning until late at night.  She wanted to know everything my son was doing and how he was at all times. She even tried telling me how and what to do, and she has never been a mother herself!  It got fucking annoying, fast.  And then I found out though other workmates that she was talking about him non-stop and she had become a laughing stock due to her obsession.  This upset me greatly and I asked her to back off.  She got nasty.  I won't go into details, but I had my son to protect so I spoke up about her bullying tactics at the time which got me nowhere.
　
When my son was born, I received nothing.  I sent a birth announcement with a photo of the lil fella into work and I got zilch in return.  Another staff member had a child not long before me and was given a card, I did not even get this much.  When I was diagnosed with Cancer and fighting for my life, another staff member had a minor health issue and was given a card.  I did not even get this much.  I was told by the Demon in our post-fire conversation that maybe the other staff member had deserved it.  I guess being told you have one of the most deadly and unpredictable Cancer's does not entitle you to any sympathy.  Well, not if you are me.
　
A boss was diagnosed with Cancer not long ago and the staff that were aware of this refused to tell the boss anything bad due to "not wanting to upset this person".  I would of thought, out of everyone, this person would of been the one to have some idea of what I had been going through but this sufferer did not like to talk about it and told me that whenever I mentioned the word Cancer it was like putting a knife through their heart. I understand someone not wanting to talk about something so horrible, but I felt that I was being censored with my own battle. Although now I have some understanding as to why I did not get any support from this person throughout my most recent surgeries and hospital visits.  Not that the company ever gave me much support in the first place.  I think that sufferer was scared and did not want any reminders of mortality. 
　　
This division of Hell I worked for pride themselves on being a family company, yet they have no problem treating a Cancer suffering mother like a piece of shit.  And they have no issue with allowing a 4 year old, in BAREFEET, to enter the place after a fire in order to have a look at the damage. This child left with the soles of her feet blackened.  Family pride my fucking arse.
　　
Although, I must be honest and say that escaping from Hell and coming back to the real world has been a blessing in disguise.  It has been a struggle finanicially, but that should hopefully soon be solved.  Other than losing my pitiful wage, I certainly do not miss working for Satan.  Hell is hot and nasty.

Mental Health does not discriminate against anyone.  But people do discriminate against Mental Health.