Moles always had decorated my body. They were just part of who I was and when young was told all of them were harmless.

In October 2015, I finally made time to go see a doctor to have three removed. One in the middle of my back had gone from being itchy, to the occasionally bleeding, sore, and peeling. It sounds horrible now but these would occasionally happen over the previous two years so I didn’t think much of it. Besides I had time to take care of it. The doctor did a biopsy and said they’d call me in a few days but not to worry. The call came a day later when I was in a meeting room at the high school. I went to the window with paper and wrote down the words “Malignant Melanoma”. I also had appointments already scheduled the next day with a dermatologist, oncologist, and surgeon. They were going to operate within a week. This was intense.

In an instant everything had changed. You begin to google everything from treatment to life expectancy. Friends and family surrounded and encouraged me. They didn’t know what to say but just having them there during such a scary and uncertain time meant everything. They all told me that they’d be there and how much they loved me. In my search for meaning in the cloud of emotion she I sought out to find one thing I was grateful for each day. I kept this up and posted pictures unltil after the surgery when it became hard to move. I didn’t know till years later how important this one simple task was to do everyday.

The operation was out-patient. Operation a few hours and I’d be in recovery for a few weeks. Doctors tested both lymph nodes under both my arms to determine just how far the cancer had spread. Thankfully there was no lymph node involvement. The incisions left me with scars and a numbness that never goes away under my arms. Battle wounds but a small price to pay. I left with a 5 inch incision in the middle of my back so they could get clear margins-clear out all the cancer. The samples were tested and it was determined that I was cancer-free. I had beat stage 2B Melanoma. The next few weeks were spent lying in bed or by the fireplace just sleeping or waiting for the pain meds to kick in. It took some time but I got better and was thrilled at a new chance at life. I would receive follow up scans every 3 months, then 6 months, then each year. But the important part was that I was free.