A couple of weeks later I met my usual GP. Bizarrely he was working out of the pharmacy in the Sainsbury’s store for the day so I met him in the surgery room at my local supermarket. I gave him a brief overview of the situation and then proceeded to take my shoe and sock off. I was pretty relaxed. I expected him to take a look, grab his magic freezing machine and give it another lengthier and more aggressive zap. Unfortunately that’s not how it went. Having taken the briefest of looks at my foot, my GP asked if I had private medical cover. That was not a good sign. I’ve not done the research but I’m pretty sure that had to be one of the top 5 things that you never wanted your GP to ask you. Whilst I was processing this information, he told me that I needed to see a dermatologist. As soon as possible. My heart sank. It’s a feeling I’ve unfortunately experienced a few times since on this journey. More times than I would have wished. A huge knot appeared in my stomach. I felt winded, like someone had punched me in the kidneys. I sat there for what was most probably no more than 2 seconds but felt like about 3 minutes as I tried to digest what the doctor had just said. Several trains of thought raced through my head. My voice of reason and my erratic conscience had a fierce argument. Something along the lines of;

“I knew it, you’ve got melanoma, you’ll be lucky to live 3 years”
“Don’t be so stupid, it’s completely symmetrical, smooth borders, one colour. He’s covering his arse by sending you to see the dermatologist”
“It’s growing like buggery, getting darker, it’s now raised and it’s not fallen off. You’re doomed.”
“Shut up. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about.”

The doctor must have sensed my panic as he spent a few minutes reassuring me that it’s probably nothing to worry about but it’s just best to let the dermatologist look at it. They may cut it out and send it off for testing, just as a precaution.

I left his office in a daze. He may well have been trying to reassure me but hearing that I needed to see the dermatologist as soon as possible and they may cut the mole out and send it off for testing scared the life out of me.

Even my voice of reason was wavering;

“I’ll be fine – won’t I? It’s nothing to worry about – is it?”

Whilst the overwhelming feeling was absolute worry and concern, there was also a tiny part of me that actually seemed quite smug at that exact moment in time. As I walked down the cereal aisle of Sainsbury’s a small voice in my head was patting itself on the back and saying “I knew it, I told you so. I knew something wasn’t right!” I can assure you that it was little comfort for part of me to play the “I told you so” card at that moment but I guess you can’t help how you feel!