Not to be a smartarse, but I wasn't terrified until it was all over!
Last year I found a mole in my hairline that started to grow. After a month or so, when it finally sank in that it could be dangerous, I went to the doctor and he measured it and within a few weeks it was cut off.

I lay on the operating table fully conscious, with plenty of local anaesthetic injections in my forehead, joking with the staff and feeling no nerves whatsoever as I didn't really believe it could be serious. Think they thought I was a bit mental.

A week or so later I had a letter saying that the growth had indeed been cancerous but had been successfully excised and wouldn't give any more trouble. Nearly dropped through the floor.

Found the letter again a few months ago and and it was folded up, tatty and blue-stained. I seem to have carried it around in my jeans pocket for some time, to get it into that state. Maybe I wanted to be able reassure myself.

How people feel who really do have cancer, I can't imagine.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 22:34, Reply)