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.