Had I listened to the “expert,” I might be dead.
It may sound hyperbolic, but I assure you it is not.
Listening to my intuition as well as the intuition of those who love me most literally saved my life!
And I have a scar to prove it and to serve as a reminder that the “experts” are not always right.
Let’s back up to the beginning of my story…
It was the year 2013. Life was good. My husband and I were about to celebrate our second anniversary the very same month that we would move into our first home. We had been given an amazing business opportunity and were thriving as entrepreneurs. I was enjoying teaching Jazzercise classes with a wonderful group of ladies. (Yes, I know leg warmers and thong leotards likely came to mind. I promise you it’s hip now.)
Then one day, a mole turned my world upside down.
Looking back, I can’t quite remember why I initially booked an appointment. It was a mole on my back that I couldn’t see so it wasn’t that I noticed it growing or changing colors.
Maybe it was because I had recently heard a few horror stories of young people people being taken out by melanoma – quickly.
Or maybe it was because I had been a fan of Gray’s Anatomy and had watched Izzie’s cancer scare that came from a mole – one on her back no less.
Maybe it was the fact that both my parents are prone to needing skin cancers removed. Or that I grew up in literally the sunniest city in the world, and we’ve all been told ad nauseum that the sun causes cancer. (True? I’m not so sure anymore, but that's a story for another day.)
I’m not quite sure what drove me to seek a medical opinion other than that something simply felt “off,” but I am so grateful that God put that nudge in my heart.
I learned so many things from my journey.
First, I learned that not all doctors are heroic like we like to imagine.
I once heard someone say that we automatically assign respect to certain professions like doctor. In reality, the majority are mediocre – at best. After several experiences with less than stellar care, I am a firm believer in this theory.
A good doctor is priceless, but too many are not only not good – they are just plain bad.
The original doctor I saw spent no more than 10 minutes in the room with me.
“I can tell you have had that mole from birth,” she told me after a cursory glance. “And those types of moles do not become cancerous.”
While I was not impressed with her bedside manner, I was relieved to hear that I had nothing to worry about. The doctor had just assured me that it was impossible for my mole to harm me. What a relief!
Too bad she was far from a good doctor.
Second, I learned to trust my gut.
I went home after that appointment and shared the good news with my husband and parents who we were living with at the time. Everyone was so relieved.
However, over the next few weeks, my mom and husband became oddly fixated on my mole. Because I was a Jazzercise instructor, I was often in workout halters that exposed the mole in question.
“I don’t know," I distinctly remember my mom telling me one day as I was cooking in the kitchen one night. “I really don’t like the look of that mole.”
“Mom, stop!” I recall scolding her. “I already got it looked at. The doctor says it’s fine!”
I could tell she was not convinced. There was apparently something that just didn’t look right, I guess.
But the doctor had assured me it was fine. With all her years of medical training, surely she would know better than my mom who didn’t even attend college.
Wouldn’t she…?
Then my husband started making comments.
“I don’t like that mole,” he stated matter of factly one evening.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” I shot back. “I already had the doctor look at it, and she told me it’s fine!”
My snippy tone betrayed the truth. I was starting to get frustrated because their comments were filling me with anxiety. But more than anything, I was confused. Why would my mom and husband continue to pester me when the doctor – an expert – had so confidently assured me that I had nothing to worry about.
I was still mulling everything over in my head, trying to figure out what to do when one day, I very lightly scratched my back, and the mole in question began to bleed.
I often thank God that happened because it spurred me into action. I decided it was time to get a second opinion.
Third, I learned that it is important to advocate for yourself.
For my own peace of mind and that of my family, I decided to trust my own gut and to demand that my concerns be taken seriously.
“I already had this mole looked at, and the doctor told me it was fine, but I don’t care. I don’t like it, and I want it removed and sent off to be tested,” I demanded – politely, of course.
Thankfully, she complied without question.
I made a follow-up appointment for the following week and went on my way, greatly relieved.
It’s funny because I truly did not believe anything was going to be wrong – as you will soon see. Nonetheless, I felt an enormous weight lifted off my shoulders.
At the time, we did not have health insurance. My wound where they removed the mole was healing perfectly, and I did not want to pay for a 15-minute appointment where they would simply tell me something I already knew – that everything was healing nicely. I’m ashamed to say that I skipped the appointment. (Don’t be like me! That was incredibly rude.)
That same day, I received a phone call from an unknown number. Of course, as a millennial, I let it go to voicemail. It was from the doctor’s office asking me to call back.
Thinking that they were calling to reschedule or possibly demand I pay a fee for missing an appointment, I ignored their request. (Again, don’t be like me! That was so rude and irresponsible.)
The following week they called again and left another voicemail. This time their tone was urgent, and I could no longer avoid doing the right thing. Reluctantly, I called them back.
I was sure they were going to be hounding me for a fee and was thus surprised when they demanded that I come in for an appointment and that it was very important for the doctor to speak with me.
“Is everything alright?” I asked with a tremble in my voice.
I can’t remember the exact noncommittal response I got. All I remember is that he made it very clear that this was an important appointment that I absolutely must not miss.
The day of the appointment arrived. I was obviously a bundle of nerves.
For good reason it turns out.
“The test results came back, and it was positive for melanoma,” she calmly stated as soon as she entered the room.
Melanoma?!
Cancer?!
How could this possibly be happening?!
“Am I going to die?” I asked incredulously.
I was relieved to hear her quickly and confidently respond, “No.” At the same time, I was not sure that I could trust her. The other doctor had just as confidently told me everything was fine when clearly it was anything but.
That appointment set off a whirlwind few weeks. It turns out that the melanoma measured 0.9 mm. Apparently, once it reaches 1.0 mm, they begin to worry about it metastasizing which essentially means spreading to other organs.
Because I advocated for myself, I was able to undergo a simple procedure of cutting a small chunk of skin to remove all the cancer from my body. Had the measurement been a mere 0.1 mm bigger, I likely would have had to have my lymph nodes biopsied and possibly have had to undergo chemotherapy or some other aggressive cancer treatment.
I will never forget the lessons I learned, and I will always encourage anyone and everyone to never ignore their intuition even if it goes against what an expert says, no matter how confidently they say it.
Thank God I trusted the intuition He gave me and not the experts!
I might not be here to tell my story otherwise!
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