In 2021, I pursued my dream of relocating to the coast. My partner and me took a leap of faith, packed up our life into bags and boxes and moved from south-east Wales to Pembrokeshire. It was incredible.
Our evenings were spent swimming in the sea, having beach barbecues and taking long strolls. After a challenging few years dealing with health problems (I was diagnosed with lupus and kidney failure in 2017), it was the relaxed, content and joyful life we had been yearning for. But a few months after moving, our lives were thrown into disarray once more.
A mole on my leg had been on my mind for years. I had already consulted two doctors about it but they had reassured me that it was nothing to be concerned about. They diagnosed it as a benign tumour, known as a fibroma, possibly triggered by an insect bite.
So I kept putting it to the back of my mind. The doctors are the experts, aren't they? But I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. The mole continued to grow, began changing colour, and (as unpleasant as it sounds) started to become crusty and itchy.
I thought about revisiting the doctor but was concerned about wasting their time. A few weeks later, I was working remotely from home. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was dressed in a summer frock.
As I reclined in my chair, I glanced down at my leg. The irate-looking mole glared back at me. I decided then and there to take the plunge and ring my GP.
That summer dress likely ended up saving my life. The G.
