The Biopsy: Dental Surgeon Visit
Following the ENT’s recommendation, I saw a dental surgeon. This experience was memorable. The surgeon, confident yet somewhat dismissive, assured me he was 99% sure it wasn’t cancer. Despite the odds, his confidence was somewhat comforting. He performed the biopsy on a Friday and told me to enjoy my weekend.
This Phone Call is Gonna Be Bad
Finally I get a call from my ENT. Not the dental surgeon who I was waiting to hear back from. The second I heard her voice I knew I was fucked. Like… it was late in the day, it was a full 10 days later from the appointment. She clearly waited until the end of the day to make the call. I know that because I could hear her beep beep beep warning as she backed into her garage and then quickly wrapped up the conversation. God that fucking hurt. Having like… 7 million questions and knowing that someone just… wanted to get off the phone with you.
On to the Next one
So she referred me to another ENT who specializes in surgery. Because I was going to need to have this thing… this tumor… this cancer cut out of my face. It was so scary and surreal. It still is about 95% of the time. I struggle with just… accepting what’s happening. It’s part of why I’m writing this all out right now… well, and the google ads. Anways. She quickly explained I had cancer and needed to talk to a surgeon.
OK So… Like an Actual Snail’s Pace Then?
Then I hear from the surgeon. I remember that it was August 7th because he told me my appointment wasn’t until the 19 and I straight up could NOT believe it. I had to wait 12 days. I tried to just realize that like… none of this was going to happen on my schedule. It was all something that was going to happen in it’s own time.
Not a Super Emotional Guy
I remember talking to Dr. Hamlar on the phone and I was in tears and just a mess and he was like… “ok great see you on the 19th” like.. He was a robot. When I met him in person he was a little more compassionate, but I remember that first call didn’t really make me feel better in any type of way.
The Big Day. Of Cancer… Not Christmas.
So now the big day comes, and boy am I excited I’ve waited all these days to get my questions answered. I get to the desk and check in and they tell me that he is running way behind and that my 2:00 is now a 3:30. OK. I went on a little walk and saw the city and was able to have a moment to try to remember my questions and also maybe just calm down.
The First Appointment. Sort of a Blank.
I do not really remember that much about the actual appointment. I remember Dr. Hamlar being very confident. I remember him saying that they were still doing some testing and that they weren’t sure if it was a type of cancer that can result from HPV, or if it was a more serious cancer that had a very high recurrence rate. Turns out it was the second one. But there’s something sort of interesting about that.
Figuring Out What Caused This and Who’s Fault It Is
So here’s something interesting about when it was “maybe” the HPV type. I was ready to just start out and out beating myself up about anything sexual I had done as a kid… IF that was the cause. Like… I think I just had so much anger that I wanted to release it in ANY form possible, and blame seemed like a pretty good outlet. In some later conversation I remember talking to a nurse and just really making sure that this was NOT the result of tobacco use or anything I did. And they had to explain to me that like.. Even if that was the cause, it’s not like I deserved cancer. It was such a clusterfuck of emotions. I think I wanted to find a way to hate myself, again just as a means of release of all this terrible uncertainty and fear.
The First of Many Moments That a Nurse Helped
That thing I mentioned above, about the nurse explaining that this is not my fault. This was such a big deal. I think a lot of what was happening was just straight up confusion, but I needed someone to explain this wasn’t my fault. I think things are my fault. Sometimes I think people have trouble just… being comfortable existing. That was me.
