Finding The Lump
I don't remember the exact moment I found it. It seems weird now that I don't remember it, because I probably should. I suppose, at the time, I didn't realise that it would be this huge defining moment in my life and a lot of my memory was being utilised to store Taylor Swift lyrics. I don't remember if I saw a shadow in the mirror and wondered what was protruding out of my skin, just above my right collarbone. I don't remember if I was moisturising and brushed my hand against it, or if I was scratching my neck and accidentally stumbled upon it. Thinking back now, I honestly have no idea whatsoever how I discovered the cancerous tumour resting on the outskirts of my neck. I think I was lying in bed, brushing a hair off my neck or something when my fingertips first discovered it, but I couldn't say for sure. I should remember, because looking back that was a pretty huge moment in my life, but I just don't. I don't know if I was scared or confused or if I just had no idea what was about to happen. I don't know if I was actually so scared that my brain doesn't want me to remember it... although I'm pretty sure that's not the case. I just didn't realise it was an important moment.
I remember that it was night time when I found it, it must've been 23:30 at least and I'm pretty sure it was a school night, possibly a Sunday. It was April 2010, near the end of April... I don't remember the exact date, but I want to say the 25th or the 26th. With this vague information, I could probably look it up and work it out exactly, but who really cares?
I think dad was still awake, watching tv but mum had definitely gone to bed, so I went to find Emily. She was on the computer probably talking to boys on MSN because people still did that back then. I remember I told her about it and she poked it and I remember laughing, we both laughed because it was squishy and it moved up and down my collar bone a little bit when you pushed it. It was really funny and kind of gross, but we like gross things. Then I remember stopping laughing and saying to her something along the lines of "This kind of isn't funny though, like... it could be cancer." I think I was a little bit freaked out at this point, but as a healthy-ish fifteen year old I probably managed to convince myself that it probably wasn't, because who gets cancer? Other people get cancer, we just hear about it and acknowledge that it's sad because we know it is, but what do we really know about suffering? Emily just laughed and said "it's not cancer, you dick" or something equally sentimental. She then proceeded to really freak me out as she told me a story about people who found lumps in their necks and it turned out to be a spider's nest and then one day hundreds of teeny tiny baby spiders started crawling out of their skin and all over their body. As sick as it sounds, that was scarier than cancer at that point. In fact, I'm pretty sure I actually said in that moment "Oh my god, I would rather have cancer."
I think I told my mum the next morning. I distinctly remember her pushing it in both directions and saying something along the lines of "well, it's not a tumour because it's moving and tumours don't move. It's probably just a gland, but we should take you to see the doctor because you haven't been that well recently anyway." We were standing in the hallway as she examined it, about to leave for school and Hannah was standing next to her saying "Ewww, I want to touch it" and laughing. I probably let her play with it after mum was done, we used to play with it a lot because it was really freaky and gross, but equally funny.
Mum was right though, I hadn't really been myself recently but it was nothing serious and I'd put it down to other things. For one, I was hardly eating at all and I hadn't been for months. That was a whole entirely separate issue (because I have more issues than Vogue), but it was probably the stress of exams and I felt a lot of pressure to be skinny. I know that sounds weird, because I'm tiny and I pretty much always have been (minus the time they put me on steroids and I went up two clothes sizes), but I was terrified of gaining weight.
Anyway, I'd been really, really tired; there were a couple of days I was so exhausted that I just suddenly lay down in the middle of the kitchen floor because I didn't have the energy to move to somewhere more comfortable. I remember one day I was too tired to really function at all, I tried to stay up and move around, but every room I went to I had to lie down. I can't even explain what it was like because I haven't really felt exhaustion quite like that since. I just remember I felt really weak, like I'd been awake for 30 hours but it was only 11am. I put it down to a bad night's sleep or that I only ate half a potato 12 hours ago - both perfectly reasonable explanations. There were probably other symptoms we missed... I guess I'd been waking with night sweats, but I didn't really think about it at the time. If you wake up covered in sweat, you just get a bit grossed out, assume you had too many blankets or layers or whatever and have a shower. You don't think "shit... well that's cancer.".
So, we went to the GP either that day or the next and I missed a morning of school, which was great. It's almost hilarious when I think of it now but I was NEVER sick as a child which meant I never got to miss school, so I was on some level delighted. Almost hilarious, because if I don't laugh, I'll cry, but pre-Cancer, feeling unwell was a cold maybe once a year... Now it's a daily occurrence. I think it's actually become part of my identity, I'm just that girl who's always sick (and always complaining and always late... not sure I can blame those on cancer though).
I remember sitting in the doctors office as the lump was examined. She asked me if it hurt, which it didn't and then started talking to my mum about stress and exams. My mum expressed concern that I was working too hard for my GCSEs and that I was "overdoing it" (which is hilarious because, I wasn't, I was really just drawing a lot for my Art exam and neglecting subjects that might actually be useful). Perhaps I was anaemic, or just "coming down with something". That was an optimist diagnosis, because in reality I was coming down with cancer, but we wouldn't have that confirmed for another couple of months. I think they took my bloods, or maybe I had to make another appointment for that, and I distinctly remember the doctor asking if I had itchy skin (which as far as I noticed I hadn't) and if I'd been near any cats. The answer to that was a HELL NO, because cats are disgusting.
She had a calm voice and went through several possible reasons for my new squishy friend. It was a gland, a lymph node, but we shouldn't worry because sometimes they do just pop up and it may just go back down again. I don't feel like anyone was worried at this point though, it could've easily been nothing... but, just to be on the safe side - a phrase I'm pretty sure they use around children and mothers, to ease them into bad news gently - an appointment would be made at the hospital where I could see a wonderful paediatrician and she could take it from there.
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