I have cancer too

Got an unpleasant unwelcome unexpected call from my dermatologist this morning.  My run-of-the-mill appointment last week yielded an unfortunate result - I have skin cancer on my forehead.

"Pre-cancerous?" I asked.  "No, it's already cancer, but it's common and straightforward to treat," she said.

In the cancer olympics, this situation wouldn't even make the practice team.  It just needs to be addressed before too much time passes.  I'll have a little outpatient surgery in a couple of weeks, and hopefully the worst case scenario will be a small scar and a lifetime of annual dermatology checkups to dread look forward to.

From my perspective, this is fair.  This is karma.  I'm fair-skinned and freckled, yet I have spent many happy days springs, summers, and falls soaking up rays and enjoying my childhood and young adulthood at the beach, river, tennis court, and in the stands at baseball games.  I knew I didn't wear enough sunscreen, and I allowed the burns.  I deserve skin cancer.  Cause and effect.  The punishment fits the crime.  And as a bonus, an unpleasant day of minor surgery will hopefully be the extent of my penance.  It hardly seems appropriate to call it the c-word.

I can't help but contrast it with my Asa's situation.  His diagnosis was dramatic, preceded by a violently painful day, and has culminated in a series of monthly pokes, prods, and tests.  No easy out for him.  And not his fault - he's not even capable of making bad decisions.  Not fair.  I guess that's the cruelty of real cancer - no matter if the victims have 2 or 4 legs.  It takes no prisoners, and it often isn't thoughtful enough to identify itself early and accept defeat peacefully.  (Disclaimer - I know that skin cancer is often "real."  I just wouldn't classify mine as "real."  It seems trivial compared to what others are going through)

I have no happy wrap-up for this post.  I'm tired of cancer.  Cancer sucks, and if you're reading this, you can probably relate.  It isn't fair, many forms aren't preventable, and it often isn't diagnosed until it's too late.  Including hemangiosarcoma.

But realizing (today for the first time) that his cancer isn't fair or preventable and that it often isn't easy to diagnose was actually eye opening for me about Asa.  I just now realized I wasn't a bad mother for not seeing the signs earlier.  I didn't fail my dog by not recognizing he was sick until he collapsed in my kitchen.  And it wouldn't have made me an evil person if I couldn't afford (financially or emotionally) to go forward with the surgery, recovery, chemo, and ongoing treatment.  While medical philosophy regarding humans seems to be focused on keeping someone alive at all costs, veterinary medicine seems to consider comfort, quality of life, and other factors when deciding treatment or non-treatment for our beloved animals.  Does that mean we have the option to take the easy way out with our animals, or does it mean we can evaluate a holistic set of needs when deciding how to handle a bad diagnosis?

Tell me about your experience:

1. How would you describe the word "fair"?  Is that even an appropriate standard to judge life events?
2. Did you feel guilty about your dog's cancer?
3. What advice do you have for others just finding out that a loved one has cancer?