What a skin biopsy taught me about resilience
I had a health scare at the beginning of the year that threw my whole life into uncertainty.
I wrote about this on social media, but I want to go a little deeper here. I think it’s an important reminder of how we can build resilience, especially in the face of the unknown.
In case you have no idea what I'm talking about, here's the short version of what happened: I am really proactive about getting skin checkups with my dermatologist. I had a mole on my stomach that my doctor had been watching for a while. We biopsied it in June, and shortly after we did, it grew back. After that, I went in for a second biopsy, and that time they found abnormal cells. Because of that, my dermatologist wanted to do a third biopsy—but this time, she wanted to go deeper.
My doctor did tell me that I would need stitches, but I wasn’t expecting it to be a big ordeal. When I arrived at her office on January 2nd and was escorted into a surgical suite, I quickly realized that it was a lot more serious than I thought. The area that they needed to remove took up a good three-and-a-half inches of my stomach—way more than I’d expected.
I asked my dermatologist why they were removing so much, and she said something I wasn’t prepared to hear at all: They were concerned about melanoma. It was possible that the cells that had grown back were cancerous.
I trust my doctor immensely—and I knew she would be honest with me—so I asked her what the worst-case scenario would look like. She assured me that there was a big chance that all they needed to do was remove the cells with this biopsy and I would be fine. But then she said that if any of the cells indicated melanoma, the next steps would be to go to the cancer center to get scans and see if the cancer had spread anywhere else. I might also need to get lymph nodes removed.
The room started spinning. Melanoma? Cancer center? Lymph nodes?
Three people in my family have had melanoma. I know someone outside of my family who died from it. I know melanoma is no joke.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. You hear about these things happening to other people, but when it comes to yourself, it’s hard to believe that this is reality, you know?
I was in shock. I actually asked if we could reschedule the procedure because I felt so blindsided. My dermatologist said we really needed to do it that day because timing was important, especially if it turned out to be melanoma.
And so, we did the procedure. And I had to fight back tears while I was on the surgical table. I remember I kept telling myself, “You’re strong. You’re strong. You’re strong.”—even though I didn't feel strong at all in that moment.
Getting the stitches certainly sucked, but the worst part was that my doctor said it would take one to two weeks to get the results of the biopsy back. I knew I would have to live with this extreme uncertainty for the foreseeable future.
On top of all of those feelings, I was also really frustrated. The year had just started—we were only two days in!—and I had been feeling so motivated to work on my health goals. I had just signed up with a new Pilates studio, and I was loving the classes. Having this procedure meant I couldn't do Pilates for at least two weeks while I healed.
It just so happened that I had a therapy session scheduled for the next day, which couldn't have come at a better time. When I told my therapist about the biopsy and the possible results, the first thing she asked me to do was walk her through the feelings I was having.
I told her how scared I was. She said, “It makes sense that you're scared. That's really scary.”
I told her I was grateful that I was proactive and that we caught it when we did. What if I hadn't, you know? She said, “It makes sense that you're grateful.”
I told her that I was really angry about not being able to do Pilates after starting off the year so strong. She said, “It makes sense that you're mad. That's grief. You're grieving what you thought the new year was going to be like, and you’re frustrated that it won’t be like that.”
I also told her that I was proud that I wasn’t thinking about work at all. I think a few years ago, my first thought might have been what I would do about all of my speeches and events if it turned out that I needed to go in for more procedures. This time, it didn’t even cross my mind, and I was proud of that growth. I knew that no matter what, I would put my health first and that our clients would understand.
We walked through every emotion I had, and then I asked her, “Can you give me some tips, knowing that I'm not going to get any answers for a while? How can I navigate this time of uncertainty?”
Here’s what she told me: “The best thing you can do is to allow yourself to feel every single emotion that you have. When you're feeling sad, tell yourself, ‘I'm sad, and that's okay.’ When you're angry, tell yourself, ‘I'm angry, and that's okay.’ When you're scared, say, ‘I'm scared, and that's okay.’ Start with that.”
Then, she encouraged me to journal about how I’m feeling. I already journal every morning and love it, but she encouraged me to write my next journal entry with my non-dominant hand. When I asked why, she told me it’s because it's going to be a struggle to do that. And sometimes, when you're struggling and you have to write in a way that’s difficult for you, it can help you embrace your emotions.
I'm right-handed, so the next day, I tried to journal with my left hand. It happened to be a day that I was really upset about everything—that I couldn't go to my Pilates class, that I had to wait for results, that I had all these painful stitches—and I just allowed myself to feel it all. I felt it so deeply that I cried as I was writing. I was so frustrated.
But something really incredible happened. By the time I was done, I felt lighter. I think it’s because I had fully embraced those feelings and allowed myself to move through them. And I noticed that as time went on, my feelings of sadness and anger and fear and uncertainty turned to gratitude and acceptance and peace and calm.
That's what I think resilience is about: allowing yourself to fully embrace what you're going through. It’s not shying away from it, not burying the feelings, not talking yourself into feeling something different, but looking at those feelings and saying, “It's okay that you're here. I'm going to create some space for you.”
I got the call a week after the biopsy. It was 6 p.m., and I was working in a coffee shop. When I saw the doctor’s office number pop up on my phone, I knew I was ready to hear the news, no matter what that news was. And that’s how I know I was able to build strength in this situation.
Luckily, it was great news. It wasn't melanoma. All the abnormal cells were gone. I also learned that if I hadn't done the procedure, the cells could have eventually turned into melanoma, so it was very good that we acted when we did.
And now, looking back, I am so grateful for this whole experience. What a powerful way to enter 2024: To be reminded that resilience comes from being human and from trusting that you’ve got this—even in moments when you feel like you don’t.
If you’re going through something that you’re not sure how to face, I want you to know that you’re not alone. I hope you take the time to feel your emotions, give yourself permission to move through them, and come out on the other side feeling stronger.
You’ve got this! You really do 🧡
Big hugs,
