The plastic surgeon cut out a piece of my skin yesterday morning in her office. About the size of a nickle right down to the fat. She had the pathology report from the dermatologist.
Melanoma in Situ .http://www.everydayhealth.com/skin-cancer/melanoma-in-situ.aspx
So the best of the worst.
I saw the piece of skin in the specimen jar. I wanted to see what I look like. The piece of Pamela floating, waiting to be frozen and dissected.
Waiting to hear if the cancer is contained, if it has margins.
The plastic surgeon stitched me up, pulling the skin back together. But I will never be the same. The thread to close the wound will not make me whole.
There will always be a white line. A reminder that I break and I bleed, the scar will remind me that I will not live forever. And I will look to the mark on the back of leg as a reminder that I am not in control of my life.
I will seek comfort in knowing that God is in control, that I am loved by the one who made me. Who knit me together in my mother’s womb.