Treason

I look down at my freckled legs propped on the dashboard of our motorhome as Joe drives north from North Carolina where we’ve left our mission project early.

Which one of your betrayed me, I think. Who’s the little bugger that turned off his blockers to set cells free to grow anyway they want, also known as cancer.

I can hear them in my mind. The set free cells are giggling in high-pitched voices like the blue Cornish pixies in a Harry Potter movie.

In August while working on a project in Indiana, I felt a hard lump in my groin. It didn’t go away and I set up an appointment with my general doc in Pittsburgh. He set me up for an x-ray, CT scan, blood work and recommended I see a surgeon to get a biopsy.

I had a biopsy before we left for our next project in North Carolina. A week later, I got the results. Metastatic melanoma likely stage 3 or 4.

Some freckle or mole went rogue and its whacky cancer cells are now in three of my lymph nodes. And here we are back on the road again to Pittsburgh seeking doctors who can offer treatment.

We’re going to find that rogue freckle or mole and kill it and its little cell friends too.