Today I discovered a lump on my left shoulder. Well, I didn't actually discover it today, just the fact of how it has grown over the years and how uncomfortable it has become recently.
The lump started as a brown mole. Around 25 years ago the doctor who was my GP at the time dismissed the mole as "only a greasy bump". The mole didn't hurt or itch so I left it alone.
The thing must have been developing very gradually over the years and these days sometimes as the day passes I feel the need to push my bra strap off my shoulder in order to be more comfortable.
This leaves me with a major dilemma.
I am of an age when I tend to look back and take stock of my life, rather than planning for the future.
Don't get me wrong; I don't have a death wish and hope to live well past my fast approaching Three Score Years and Ten. I am certainly not planning to take a trip to Switzerland to have some white-coated medic administer the 'final drops'! I do however believe that the current quest for longevity at all costs is a farce. Long life is a target that most people hope for but to quote the great Sophie Tucker, "It's the quality that counts!".
In spite of popular media and medical misconceptions; as a disabled person I have had an incredibly rich, varied and fulfilled life. I have been to places, met people and had experiences that most non disabled people couldn't even imagine!
Most of the low periods in my life have occurred when members of the medical and other 'caring' professions have tried to control me, prevent me from reaching my full potential and have generally attempted to interfere in my private life with their infernal assumptions, risk assessments and 'Health and Safety' culture. I have to say that the majority of these attempts, [at least in my adult life], have been vigorously and largely successfully resisted. To quote the prolific writer, Anon, "Life without risk is mere existence".
But back to the dilemma:
I have a very low chemical tolerance; I get very ill if I have to sit next to someone who is wearing heavy perfume or if I have accidentally eaten something containing azo-dyes, [Most artificial colours]. I can't even use perfumed washing powder, softener or face wipes.
When I see people who are undergoing chemo-therapy and radio-therapy, and how incredibly ill and drained they look, I know how much more that this will affect me.
My current thinking is that, should the lump be malignant, I would refuse chemo and radio therapy and, when the pain gets too intense, say, "Pass the morphine please!"
So here is the dilemma:
Bearing in mind my current thinking; Do I explore the lump and then face the haranguing I would certainly face from doctors trying to get me to change my mind or do I carry on in blissful ignorance until it gets either better or painful enough for intervention? This is what I have to decide.
As a Christian I do not fear the fact that my life will end but I believe that we all fear the possibility of a slow painful death especially if it follows a long and wearing regime of treatment.
