Sonya Ruben - Cancer is an Chance
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- Название:Cancer is an Chance
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Cancer is an Chance: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация
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But Sonya fights. She wants to live – at all costs – particularly for her children. An she made it! Ten years after her diagnosis it's a matter close to her heart to encourage people in similar hopeless situations and to help.
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I made all the usual purchases and set up the most important things for him. No matter what I was doing, I always did it with utter joy and serenity. Only when I was in the shower and felt this bobble - which is how I called this lump in my upper arm – I asked myself when I would finally go to the dermatologist.
And so the time passed until my son’s birth. In mid-November he came into this world. I was thankful that we were both well. Everything was in the safe zone and the next few months went by wonderfully.
A change is coming up
Towards the end of the summer I started getting a weird skin rash all over my body. It was itching day and night. These tiny blisters forced me to scratch my skin, sometimes until it started bleeding.
I tried various home remedies like lotions, curd, yogurt, damp cloths. Nothing helped for more than an hour. This constant itching under my skin.
It was unbearable. The extreme heat of summer only added to it. I woke up multiple times every night and scratched myself like a crazy person. First I thought it was due to something I had eaten. After a few days of itching, I finally got myself to go to the dermatologist. I drove to the scheduled appointment with my son in his Maxi-Kosi. Luckily, the little one was quite calm so I could take him with me anywhere. With a soother and his stuffed animal in his arm, he was completely at ease. After a short wait, the doctor came and asked what he could do for me.
I explained to him what was happening with my skin and he examined my rash. After a long conversation with me, he diagnosed stress as the likely cause of my problem. He prescribed a lotion for my body as well as an unscented bath wash and calmed me down. He told me my skin would feel better in a few days. In passing, I told him about the small bump in my arm and explained to him that I’ve had it for a while.
Fortunately, I remembered to do that, otherwise I would have been angry at myself. I was so preoccupied with my rash. He examined the bump and looked at me. His fingers circled it and he looked away for a second, as if he was looking for something. With light pressure, he moved the bump around, which felt pretty uncomfortable. His eyes were searching for mine, which made me feel slightly uneased so I looked at my son who was peacefully asleep in his Maxi-Kosi.

My dermatologist is elderly and his brown eyes hidden behind glasses in combination with his white hair made him seem highly intelligent. I have always felt comfortable around him. Due to my sensitive sculpt, I have regular appointments with him for different shampoo options. His silence scared me.
I have to have surgery
With my eyes peeled on the bump, I asked: “What is it?” He quietly replied “Hm, I’m not sure, but judging by its size, texture and movability, it has to be removed.” My breathing sounded annoyed. I don’t want to be cut open, I have already had so many procedures that left scars because I had to get a few moles removed. Now another beauty defect. And then on my upper arm, which everyone will be able to see in the summer. Oh well, at least it’s on the inner part of my arm.
He referred me to a surgeon, whose competence he trusted. I should schedule an appointment and have the lump removed. Once I was at home, I thought the whole situation through, but didn’t think anything more of it. For me, my annoying rash was the bigger problem. I used the lotion that same evening. Thankfully, it helped right away. After a few days, I was able to relax again. What a relief!
A few weeks later, I had an appointment with the general surgery and took the little one with me. This time, he was able to walk, which made the situation a little more complicated. He didn’t want to hold my hand; he’d rather touch everything else. Fortunately, everything went by relatively fast.
A very tall man entered the examination room. He greeted me and with his big, grey curls, left a slightly distracted impression on me. I found it entertaining to observe his locks bouncing up and down as he was making his way from the sink towards me. “How can I help you?” he asked briskly. I was wearing a strappy top, so I didn’t have to remove any clothes and I told him to check the bump. He examined it and asked for how long I had had it and if it hurt at all. My answers came pretty fast, as I had the feeling he was in a rush. “It could just be a deposit of the lymph nodes, but because of its size of one to two centimeters and its hard texture, it has to be removed”, he explained. He added that it would only be a small procedure. I would be able to go home right after. So just a tiny scar, I thought to myself and was content. I took my little one by the hand, who had been silently observing the doctor during our entire interaction, went to the reception desk and made an appointment for next month. No earlier dates were available. Nevertheless, the month went by relatively fast and I felt good since the rash on my body had healed. That made me strong for the next step. Meanwhile, autumn had arrived. I love autumn, the colors of nature are the most beautiful of the entire year. The day of my procedure I was relaxed and just wanted it to be over as soon as possible. The children were taken care of.
Now I was in the OR, all precautionary measures had been taken, the tools were set on a table. I felt a little uneasy, all by myself in this sterile room, decked out with yellow tiles from the floor to the ceiling – cold. I don’t have a choice, I have to get through this, I thought and brought myself back to the real world. The assistant came in, said hello and got started right away. She disinfected everything with iodine and covered me with a dark green sheet. The doctor entered the room. After a short greeting, he also got started. “Now you’ll feel a little prick”, he said. The needle, deep breaths, stay calm, I tried to tell myself. The green sheet covered my arm and face and just a tiny slit allowed me to see the doctor’s face.
The anesthesia must have started working pretty fast, because the doctor began to cut right away. He asked if everything was okay, I said yes and the nice assistant handed him his tools. It was weird, I couldn’t feel anything so I tried to relax and turned away. A few minutes later, I heard a sigh of relief. He removed the lump and said: “Look, here it is.” I turned my head towards the doctor. The bump was a shade of milky white and had the size of an olive, approximately 1.5 centimeters in diameter. In the forceps in which he was holding it, the lump appeared to be soft. I simply nodded, as I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Anything to do with surgery, needles and blood I can’t stand. That’s also why I never wanted to work in the medical field. Just the mere thought of injections gives me goosebumps down my back.

Whenever I go for blood tests, I look away. He put the lump in a container filled with water. I started to feel nauseous but relieved at the same time.
The room, that blood, simply everything was a little too much for me. It couldn’t possibly go fast enough for me to be finished. Meanwhile the surgeon explained: “So, we are going to start with the stitches because I had to cut quite deep.” Dear heaven! Why did he have to tell me all that? I didn’t even want to know.
I turned my head away from him again. From the corner of my eyes, I could watch exactly how he was stitching up my skin. The thread, which he repeatedly lifted up, had a length of at least 30 centimeters. I closed my eyes which helped to calm me down. The assistant was walking through the room. I could hear when he asked her for something. I was thankful for that distraction. “Okay, we’re done”, someone said. Hallelujah, I thought to myself and took a few deep breaths. After cleaning the wound, he instructed me not to wash it for a week. After that, he would remove the stitches. His assistant cleaned everything up. He added: We are going to send this to a laboratory and we’ll let you know once we have the results.” Why isn’t he giving a name to the lump, I asked myself. During our conversation, he carefully removed the sheet from my face. I responded to all his explanations with a nod. I just now noticed that his hair was shorter today and his curls almost gone, which made him appear even more strict. He asked the assistant to schedule an appointment for removing the stitches.
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