helen's home

Never thought I’d hear myself quoting the venerable Ronan Keeting, but there you go. My mind’s obviously not functioning well this morning...

Things aren’t quite as they should be. When I had my consultation on Thursday, the results and prognosis were undeniably good. I was delighted. I called concerned family and friends and told them so.

I went with my ridiculously relieved boyfriend to the pub for a slap-up lunch to celebrate what could’ve been infinitely worse news. I expected to be riding a wave of relief and positivity from then-on – a new-found love of life.

But once I got home, I felt completely deflated. I went for a nap and woke up feeling really spaced out and disconnected. Work the next day was torture; I kept expecting to burst into tears at any moment. No one spoke to me much; they seemed to scent my unhappiness and run a mile...

This morning, everything’s OK again. I don’t have that barely bearable sadness hanging over me.

I suppose the reason is because melanoma is something that can return at any time. It feels more like a stay of execution than a total reprieve. Not a good way to look at it, I know. Statistically I’m in a good place – 85-95% chance of survival 10years+ - and believe me, that feels great. But knowing I’ll need to be vigilant for this destructive disease for the rest of my life has taken the edge off my relief, I think.

I feel so ungrateful too, to be moping when there are so many people engaged in horrendous battles with skin cancer right now, and are showing more energy and positivity than I could ever muster.

It’s a relief to say I’m scared here – people don’t really understand why I’m still worried... Now it’s been “cut out”.

I think the “new-found love of life” thing didn’t really materialise in a way that it should’ve either because I’ve always been pretty aware of my own mortality. From nearly drowning aged 5 to being run over aged about 10, being in a coach crash with my mum and then a car crash later on... Ever seen Final Destination?! I should be paranoid but I know life’s just a roll of a dice. It doesn’t stop me being de-motivated and selfish at times though.

I’m definitely going to make some changes, and I think my personality has already shifted a little... I’ve just got to accept that there’ll be more ups and downs ahead and just try to hang on in there.

I’m so glad there are people like Lee raising awareness so others don’t have to go through this...

First off, a big hello to all my fellow planet melanoma contributors and readers, and thank you to Lee for including me :-) It’s great to know there are other people out there who are willing to share their experiences of skin cancer.

Today was the big day – I got my biopsy results. Apparently, considering how long I’ve had this thing, they still managed to catch it early. The next step is a wide local exision to remove surrounding tissue and get those all-important clear margins.

It was a huge relief to hear that the lesion hadn’t gone too deep and that the prognosis is good but, of course, there are still some tests to get through before I’m out of the woods.

I was a complete wimp about the biopsy, so I’m dreading the exision. In an attempt to reassure me, my specialist - who’s a lovely, kindly man - said: “Don’t worry my dear, I’m very conservative with my cuts. The area removed will be less Porterhouse steak, more lamb chop!”

So, in two weeks’ time my nicely healed back will be sliced and diced again – but for all the best reasons. Anything that gets rid of the melanoma is worth gritting your teeth for. Blimey, if I have to have anything radical done, I’ll be useless – absolutely no stiff upper lip.

So, another few weeks of fun at the hospital ahead but, with any luck, I’ll be celebrating a cancer-free Christmas.

It's my favourite non-Christmas-related festival of the year tomorrow: Halloween.

I've always been mad on celebrating it and love the fact that it kicks off a busy and fun time of year. Halloween, Bonfire Night, my birthday (!), Christmas, New Year... The next two months involve trying to cram in loads of get-togethers, combined with gift-giving, copious amounts of food and drink, and good will all-round.

I always start thinking about Halloween about a month beforehand, and plan what I'm going to wear if I'm heading out to a party. This year though, it's kind-of fallen a bit flat. I haven't booked a table at a suitably spooky venue, or organised a trip to the cinema to see something scary...

I did carve a pumpkin on Saturday - I've switched from the traditional Lancashire swede because pumpkins are infinitely easier to gouge at - so we've got the demonic grinning vegetable side of things covered. Actually, is pumpkin a fruit, what with all the pips?

Important questions.

Anyway, my mind is so preoccupied - I guess is the upshot - that even my favourite time of year has lost its sheen.

My internet research on melanoma is keeping me occupied. It's also scaring the bejesus out of me. Which is appropriate given the time of year.

The clocks went back this morning, so I suddenly feel the luxurience of extra time. Another hour in bed, another hour in front of the telly, another hour not getting up and dressed... Having a bit more time that you need - surplus time - feels like such a treat. Like once a year we get to rewind a bit and relax, not run to catch up withourselves.

I've always preferred the clocks going back, not forwards. I'm a winter person - born in November so perhaps that has something to do with it. I never really understood the clamour for summer. The ache in people; willing rain, snow and ice to dissipate and warmer weather to appear.

I remember asking my mum once, when I was little, why a holiday advert celebrated "uninterrupted blue skies?" I couldn't understand the benefit of a boring, plain old blue sky when one strewn with fluffy clouds seemed so much more pleasing.

Being teased for my pale complection became something I resented but I didnt make huge attempts to change at first. I was cautious with the sun after a couple of nasty buring incidents in my youngest years, involving liberal doses of calomine lotion afterwards.

Comments at school, uni, work... People liked to feel there was someone paler than them, and that someone was always me. I guess going on sunbeds one summer and a holiday in which I burnt myself pretty badly changed my attitude. I could go brown if I wanted to - if I subjected my alabaster flesh to liberal quantities of UV in high concentration.

Fake tan always looked just that on me; fake. Streaky, gravy-brown swathes shaming me into covering up even further during hot months. I could never get it to look 'natural'. Tanning seemed the only option. Yet still i tried to be cautious at all times, and never let myself O.D.

But now I'm looking at avoiding the sun altogether, and feeling a real sense of queasiness at the thought of sunbathing.

I'm waiting on the results of my biopsy to determine how 'deep' this melanoma goes. Will it be 'in situ'? Will it be an early stage? Will I have got lucky? Or will it be something more sinister? I won't know until 9th November so, till then, I can only hope and pray it's gone. And my life can go on.

OK, I have first post nerves...

What do I start off with? An introduction to my life? A joke? A quote from someone famous? An emotional out-pouring?

This feels weird.

I suppose I need to get the hang of putting my thoughts out there, for the whole world to ignore.

As an underachieving, under-ambitious writer I guess I'm used to that. Particularly as I don't actually write. I sub-edit other people's work. Sometimes it's really badly written and crummy, but at least they wrote it. I never did pluck up the courage to get that novel written... not even a short story or vignette.

I've developed a real loathing for people who are massively productive and scuttle off to their MySpace accounts to write reems about their tube journey/death of cat/murderous thoughts. Obviously I'm filled with pure, unadulterated jealousy.

But there's also that impotent arrogance, niggling away every time I slice extraneous words from flabby workaday copy: "I could do better than this!"

Jesus. If I could do better, why am I working as a TV Listings Editor? Why am I copying and pasting the programme description for One Tree Hill into a copy field, while numbly inserting indignant British 'u's into America's colorful lexicon? A monkey with 2 weeks' training would be defter and more engaged in the task at hand than me.

So, anyway, enough about how cheery and successful I am.

I'm not here to bleed my heart out about how, in spite of being hugely driven, busy, happy and downright nice, I often feel the need to put my thoughts into words. Publicly.

Nope, I am here drivelling on because I have just been told I have malignant melanoma.

News as traumatic as it can possibly get.

And I reckon having a space to moan into might give my family and friends a break and allow me to say the things that are probably too dark, self-indulgent or silly to say to anyone's face.

Happy reading.

Helen x