When I was little I remember fearing villians that could come in the night. My first nightmare was of the witch in Snow White. She was going to be sure I ate that poisonous apple! As an adult, I’ve faced villians in various forms. I bet you have too. The hardest for me have been the monsters that appeared inside my body.
in 2021, when I found the lump in my breast that had spread to my lymph nodes, I knew fear as a tangible reality. One way I fought back was to name the tumor with the villainous (?) name, Mervin. Mid chemotherapy we did a progress mammogram and Mervin was no where to be found. Eradicated! I was elated, and asked my oncologist if that meant I could stop treatment early.
My oncologist smiled kindly at my question and helped me realize that there might be mini monsters, cells traveling in my body that we needed to eradicate. Then came surgeries and radiation all in an effort to get rid of bad tissue and build an effective defense against any left over cells multiplying.
Getting to be cancer free finally was a gift that I didn’t take lightly. How could I while my sister in law was fighting brain cancer reoccurrence? Every cancer fighter knows the fear of that possibility, and each day is a different kind of battle to not let the fear win.
In May (2025) I had a great 6 mo breast exam with my surgical PA, but she noticed a dark mole on my right pinky toe. Thankfully I was wearing flip flops! I’d noticed it too and had my GP look at it a year previously. Photos had been sent to Dermotology and it’d been cleared of any suspicion.
My PA was not convinced, so she sent me to see a dermatologist. 48 hr later it was removed and sent away for biopsy. Four long weeks later I got an unwanted call with results- it was the beginnings of a melanoma.
Melanoma is a monster many of us know if we’ve lived long enough. It’s appeared for us or someone we care about. I’ve lost two people I love to it getting through their skin, running through their bloodstream and multiplying in an organ. Thankfully this mole should be contained to my protective skin layer. I’ve named it Helga. Somehow that seemed an appropriate name for a slug like thing.
The next step was to meet with a plastic surgeon, thankfully one I know from a previous surgery. Unfortunately, he was rushed and frustrated with the instruction he’d received to get 5mm of clean margins around the area. He spouted forth that this meant amputation of my little toe, and discussed the pros and mostly cons of skin grafts on the feet.
I was in shock. Suddenly a little thing felt like a tremendous monster seeking to take my mobility -at least for a time. This felt huge as in the last few months I’d just began hiking after 3 decades of struggling with neuropathic pain in my right foot after an injury at 18, and then years of bilateral neuropathy post chemotherapy.
Two days ago, my surgeon did his best to get clean margins but also save my toe. Hopefully Helga has been eradicated. He took out a pea of tissue and stitched me up. As I sit or lay with my foot in the air to heal, I’m once again fighting.
I’m fighting the urge to let fear win. I’m struggling as I await pathology results, to not let my worries take over. I’m seeking to surrender my new found mobility as I wait for answers. It’s a constant battle to combat fear with faith, and know that even if this wasn’t my plan, I know the One who has my best interests at heart. It’s been a battle of wanting control vs accepting that I was never really in control anyway.
Psalm 27:13 keeps coming to mind, “I remain confident of this. I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord.” He will show up. It’s ok to ask for the faith and eyes to see.
Tuesday, I enjoyed my lunch in the lawn while my heart complained about the mole excisement happening the next day. I felt a brush of wind on my right shoulder, and looked over expecting a bird flying very close. Instead, I saw 4 large yellow, swallowtail, butterflies dancing through the air together, over the grass & through the trees.
The dancing butterflies, four at once, felt like a tap on the shoulder from God. He still sees me. He knew I’d face this challenge. He’ll give me the strength to do so. I just need to look up, and shift my focus. Even in the waiting, I can be strong and take heart- expecting Him to show up and enable me to fight. I’ve got the ultimate superhero on my side.
Amen and amen.