I saw what looked like a feel-good, motivational sports movie on Netflix. I’m not going to say the name of it because I’m about to spoil the living snot out of it:
The dad dies. Of melanoma.
I had a malignant melanoma removed in 2001. Three doctors missed it before my plastic surgeon caught it will removing two other moles. I am very, very lucky to be here.
Watching someone died in real life — or even in a movie — of something you survived brings up lots of feelings. Like survivor’s guilt for example — and I had that for a long time. Then I realized it was a useless emotion. Gratitude can bring guilt, too. But it’s a much healthier way to look at it. I could say I was blessed, but does that mean my friends who died of the disease weren’t blessed? I’ve talked to God a lot about that one. A lot. I have struggled with anxiety (imagine if YOUR skin tried to kill you!), too. The anxiety, which flares up from time to time, has pretty much faded away.
I still get checked and still have suspicious moles removed. Recently, I had one that was severely dysplastic — I’ve had a bunch of those over the years. I’ve had over 80 moles and suspicious spots removed in nearly 25 years. One was a malignant melanoma. Two were melanoma in-situs. Over 60 were severely dysplastic.
I’m still here because of my doctor and my vigilance.
So back to the movie. The dad told the son that it was just bad luck. I’m sure someday I’ll have bad luck, too. And unlike me watching Brian’s Song right after my surgery, I didn’t get as upset about this movie as I used, to. It just reminded me of this simple truth:
All we have is this moment. And I need to be grateful for that moment.
That’s all I can do. And I am grateful I watched the movie for the reminder.