A Stitch in Time (Just)

Warning: This post contains photographs that are a little bit graphic, medical documentary style. If you don't like watching RPA, maybe don't proceed!

Last Thursday, 12th June I underwent surgery to remove the skin cancer I have previously mentioned.

The operation took about an hour and a half, and left me with approximately 40 staples in my head.

It was pretty sore, but while I was in hospital they gave me regular Endone, which helped me have a lot more rest than I have been used to!

I came home mid-afternoon on Friday. Here are some photos of what I looked like when I arrived.

The surgeon likes to keep the wounds uncovered, and I was a bit concerned about how the girls would react. But with careful preparation, they were untroubled. In fact, Grace commented at dinner on Sunday that the tomato sauce on the sausage rolls looked like Mummy's head!

Today was the first review with the surgeon, and I am very pleased to say, the tumour was completely excised. Hooray!

I am also very pleased to say I have an awesome surgeon. Dr David Chong, in case you're wondering. The tumour measured 30mm x 30 mm in size, and he managed to not only remove it all, but do it really neatly too.

The surgery involved cutting out the tumour, and going as deep as stripping the periosteum from my skull in that area. Dr Chong then made a very large flap by cutting around towards my ear and essentially removing my scalp, scoring it, then stretching it back on to cover up the hole. When he told me all that, I was amazed it isn't more painful!

I'm allowed to have wash my hair now, so fairly gingerly did so in the shower tonight. Several large chunks of hair came out, but I wasn't too surprised by that. Having had a baby recently, a bit of that was always going to happen anyway!

Here's a photo of what it looks like tonight (the staples keep going into the hair quite a way) ...

and the view from the front.

As you can see, most of it is hidden in my hair so the long term cosmetic damage should be fairly minimal.

You may notice there is an increasing amount of swelling around the bridge of my nose, but it isn't too bad and there's no bruising. Altogether, I'm very happy with how it has all gone.

I owe a very big thank you to my husband and friends Dianne, Lydia and Wayne, Nevila and others who looked after the girls while I was in hospital and when I first came home.

There's still quite a bit of recovery to go. I have some staples removed on Thursday, and then more the following Monday. I'm supposed to be resting a lot to help it heal and to reduce the swelling. Not to mention the throbbing!

What I find the scariest part of this whole experience is how the tumour managed to grow so big (they are apprently like icebergs, with the major part hidden beneath the surface) with my GP still diagnosing it incorrectly. That won't be happening to me again!

Smile

Can you look at this photo without smiling?

I didn't think so!

Charlotte is a very happy little soul. She is blessed with a cheerful temperament, and brings joy to everyone she encounters.

I'm often good at keeping my emotions on the inside. Even the pleasant ones. Charlotte reminds me that a smile is worth sharing. That it can really brighten the day. And that it is often infectious.

"Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing." 

- Mother Teresa

Telling it Straight

Grace comes up to me while I'm sitting watching TV. She has a plain skin-toned bandaid unwrapped in her hand.

Me:  "Do you need me to put that on for you, sweetie?"

Grace:  "No Mummy, it's for you."

Me:  "Oh! Where should I put it?"

Grace:  "It's for your tummy, Mummy."

I lift up my t-shirt and point randomly to a spot on my abdomen.

Me:  "Shall I put it here?"

Grace shakes her head, and points to a particularly vivid patch of stretch marks.

Grace:  "No Mummy. Here, where the crinkles are."

An Everyday Celebration

Yesterday was my 40th birthday.

It was a pretty ordinary day.

Neil worked from home, and went out to a couple of appointments.

The cleaning lady came mid-morning.

Grace and Charlotte ate and played. Lucinda fed and slept. There were moments when all three were crying at once and wanting attention. And there were a few quieter moments too.

I received a couple of phone calls, and quite a few text messages, wishing me a happy birthday. Some packages arrived - a gift card and massage voucher from my brother and his wife, and a message in chocolate from my parents.

The "Chocogram" Mum sent.

Grace helped me bake a cake, which she and Charlotte later enthusiastically decorated - by pouring all the sprinkles on top! And I asked Neil to take them to the party shop to buy half a dozen balloons. For Grace, it isn't a proper birthday unless there are balloons.

Getting ready to cut the cake.

Neil kindly organised some take away pizza for tea, so I didn't have to cook. And that was about it.

I've always been the sort of person who is into big events, or at least marking what I consider to be significant milestones with meaningful gestures. So this is a bit unusual for me. But, as you are already aware, my current circumstances don't lend themselves to overseas adventures or lively celebrations.

But maybe that is OK. Maybe spending the day caught up in the mundane, everyday activities of life with three young children is the best thing I could have done.

My life has involved travel to exotic destinations. It has included parties and celebrations. And I hope it will again.

But right now. my life is about my family. And for a little while, they are young enough that there's not much room for anything else.

I count myself very fortunate to be married and to have children.  This hasn't been an option for many of my friends. So I'm going to do my best to enjoy it while I can.

After all, there's nothing more meaningful than spending time with the people you love. And that's the sort of celebration I can repeat over and over again.

The Big 'C'

I have cancer.

Skin cancer.

A large, infiltrative morpheaform basal cell carcinoma, to be exact.

I've had a lesion on my forehead for at least two years, which my GP had assured me was a sebaceous cyst and nothing to worry about. However, in the last six months or so it has developed into a non-healing ulcer, and particularly in the last few months of my pregnancy, has started to spread rapidly.

I was waiting until after Lucinda was born before undergoing a biopsy and finding out my treatment options. Now we have more information.

A basal cell carcinoma (BCC) is the best sort of cancer to have. It very rarely metastasizes, and surgery is curative in most cases if enough tissue is removed. However, most information I've read mentions "cosmetic disfigurement" somewhere early on in the piece. I don't think I'm going to end up looking very good, especially in the first couple of months after surgery. It's lucky I'm not having a big birthday party after all!

Yesterday Neil and I met with my plastic surgeon, who is a pleasant man and very competent and knowledgeable. He explained that my tumour is large and deep (he needs to take all the tissue down to the bone), and has difficult to define margins. The cancer itself is about the size of a 20 cent piece, but then he needs to take a margin of up to 6 mm around it in order to make sure it is all removed.

In 95% of cases where the tumour is not adhered to the bone, the surgeon is able to remove it all in the first attempt. That means I am unlikely to need a temporary skin graft. Instead, he will use a rotational flap from the side of my scalp to cover the hole. But he warned me it would involve a very large incision (right around towards my ear, apparently) and I will have a lot of stitches and staples. Because my hair is quite fine, the scar may be visible long term but that remains to be seen.

Because of the extensive nature of the surgery, I will be having a general anaesthetic and stay overnight in hospital with a drain in the wound (it is likely to bleed a lot, apparently). This will all be happening on Thursday, 12th July (the earliest surgery date he had available).

We're still working out the logistics in terms of child care, and in particular the care of Lucinda, who will be four weeks old and is breastfeeding. But I've got a couple of weeks to express and store plenty of milk so that shouldn't be a problem.

In the meantime, my message is ... wear a hat! Even if it makes you feel hot and uncomfortable, or doesn't fit properly. I haven't always been good at that. And if you have fine hair, wear sunscreen on your scalp as well as your face. Even if it makes your hair look greasy and untidy.

Finally, if you have a spot you are concerned about, go straight to a dermatologist rather than trusting your GP! From now on I'll be having annual check-ups with the dermatologist. The chances are more of these tumours will appear on my head and neck. But I'll do my best to make sure they don't get as big as this one has.

Well Said

On the Wednesday before Lucinda was born, Mum and I spent a lovely day in Maling Road, Canterbury. We browsed in the shops, and enjoyed lunch in a cafe that offered a number of vegetarian options. It was just the two of us, and I really enjoyed it.

I didn't buy a lot, but knew I had to get this canvas for the girl's room as soon as I saw it. The words describe the sort of women I'd like them to be ... and the sort of woman I'd like to be myself.

It is hanging on the wall in Grace's room at the moment, but will get a special place somewhere in our new house eventually.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Introducing Lucinda Mae

I am very proud to introduce our third daughter, Lucinda Mae Finnegan, who was born at 9:52am on Friday, 8th June.

For those who are interested in these things, her vital statistics were:

• Weight - 2830g (6 lbs 4 oz)
• Length - 48.5 cm
• Head Circumference - 34 cm

As Lucinda's parents, Neil and I are obviously delighted in the arrival of a healthy baby, as well as a beautiful one.

In fact, the whole family has enthusiastically welcomed her. Grace is fascinated in her every movement, and is quite gentle and keen to help. Charlotte mostly points and shouts "Baby, baby", but also loves to watch everything that is going on.

Of course there is the question of who she resembles. Will the "red curls" in this blog's title still apply? A lot of it remains to be seen. According to my mother, Lucinda looks a lot like I did as a baby, especially in the photo below.

Lucinda has dark eyes which I believe will turn blue, and quite fair hair. I didn't think there was much ginger in it, but this photo might prove me wrong.

Neil and Grace came to the hospital this morning to bring Lucinda and I home. The temperature was only in single digits, but she was rugged up nice and cosy.

I'm sure you'll see plenty more photos of Lucinda in the days and weeks to come.