Melanoma Breakthroughs

I try to keep up with developing news about melanoma and cancer in general.  Usually, it takes some searching.  The other day I found out all I had to do was open my daily newspaper.  The front page, main article was about a new break through with a combination therapy being used in clinical trials for advanced stage melanoma patients.  Loved it.  You can see the original article here: SF Chronicle - Melanoma Advances

I sincerely hope this develops into huge leaps and gains for all of us with melanoma, no matter what stage.  Can you imagine being able to take a pill daily that would prohibit any cancer cells from traveling through your body and metastisizing?  I can, and I can't wait for that day because I worry most about those spots that haven't been biopsied or noticed.

We have come so far and still have a long ways to go, but this article details a huge step forward.

A different cancer view

Ok, I will admit it.  I have absolutely no idea who Giuliana Rancic is. Or was. I wouldn't have, and still won't recognize her in a crowd of two.  Of course, I keep an eye on most cancer stuff that crosses mainstream media.  Apparently, she is well known enough to qualify.  For those who are like me, I guess she is a fashion reporter on Good Morning America, or something similar.  (In full disclosure, I don't watch much TV).

I was surfing and saw that MSN had an article about her husband's comments about her lumpectomy that happened today. Again, I am out of touch and had no idea this was an on-going battle. I had wrongly assumed she disclosed the diagnosis because of Pinktober.  He made a comment that touched me deeply and summarized how I view life after my diagnosis.  I have struggled to explain to people how hearing the word "melanoma" changed my view of life and what is important or not.  His words finally hit on my feelings. I will be stealing them often and repeatedly.

Giuliana's husband said this about her battle, "She's really viewing life a little bit differently. It's funny when you go through a situation like this, it really turns the volume down on the things that really aren't that important."

I couldn't agree more.  I have really turned down the volume on things that aren't important in the big picture.  I hope she comes out of her battle hearing what is important and hitting the mute button on what isn't.  I know I sure have.

Hair!

When most people think of cancer, and its treatment, they think of going bald and losing your hair.  I admit to being one of those people.  I've already talked about knowing I'd get cancer one day.  I knew that with so much certainty that I'd already decided how to handle the chemo part of losing my hair.  I was (and still will) cut it very short and dye it some ridiculous color.... like silver with red highlights.  I figured that if I took charge and made a radical change, then it wouldn't be my hair falling out.  Trust me, it makes sense in my head.  It's why a lot of patients shave their head instead of letting it fall out.  It's about control.

I have survived this round of melanoma without needing radiation and chemo.  I count myself lucky.  I also know the next round may include it.  When I was first diagnosed with melanoma I went into chemical discovery overload.  I tried to find any research related to any possible chemical I have been and might continue to be exposed to.  Of course, coloring my hair came up.  Prior to my diagnosis, I had started to grow tired of the 6-7 week maintenance of hiding my grey hair.  After my diagnosis, I started to wonder if it might be related.  I never found any research that made me think I should do away with it completely.  What I did find after my diagnosis was more self acceptance for what I was hiding.

I started to go grey at 23.  My Grandmother was totally silver at 35.  And beautiful to boot.  I started coloring at about 28ish.... and have been ever since.  This summer I really started to wonder, "Why am I doing this?"  I was sick of the maintenance and missed my real color plus the silver.  So I stopped coloring my hair this summer and watched the grey grow out to get an idea of how grey I really am.  And wow!!!! I'm about 1/3 to 1/2 grey now, but I like the shading and tints of it. Apparently, I'm not a total white color.  I see neat shades of silver and grey and several of my natural brown.  And the more I look, the more I realized that that is me.  The real me.

I am not afraid to be grey.  I am already mistaken for being older than my 40 so being grey won't change that.  What it will change is that people will see the real me.  And I will see a person in the mirror that I accept for who I am. No more hiding behind my hair as a shield.  I will admit that I'm going to miss my long hair.  It's down to my mid-back right now and I'm going up to about 2 or 3" to ease the time it takes to let the old, dyed hair grow out.  I will let it grow back to this length when the color is all mine.

The really cool part about going "all in" with this new hairstyle is that I am able to donate my old hair.  I did this several years ago and will do it again this week.  There is a young girl who needs my hair more than me.  I don't mind going short. Heck, being bald wouldn't bother me like it bothers her.  So, I am donating between 10-12 inches of hair to another cancer patient who needs it now.  I don't.  Call it paying it forward.  And accepting myself for who I am, grey and all.  She can die it silver with red highlights if she wants.  It will be hers to control now.  I'm gladly passing that on to her as I take control of showing who I am now....as a melanoma warrior.

Cancer and Steve Jobs

I was heartbroken to hear that Steve died earlier today.  Even though I don't know him personally, have ever met him or even seen him in person, I still grieve. And am scared all over again.

My husband summed it up perfectly about a half hour ago. "Even with all that money, even he couldn't beat cancer."  I couldn't have said it better.  You see, cancer does not care who you are. A teacher, a bum or the most highly recognized CEO in the world.  Yes, money helps provide early detection and more treatment but sometimes the beast is just too much. No matter who you are.

On another note, it's a little more personal.  I have a good friend who has "Steve Jobs cancer" herself.  She was diagnosed several years ago and has two young children.  The first thing I did when I heard was to send her a text message asking, "So how are your cancer neurosis doing right now?"  This news hit me hard but I cannot even imagine how she is feeling.  Even though she is winning the battle, you know she has to wonder if she will continue to win or is she just a few years behind him.  I wish I could do more for her than offer support and grieve with her.  So, I did what I could. I reminded her she has my support and it's ok to be a neurotic fool after this news.  I understand in my way and I hope she understands in her way.

I am a huge Apple fan and have been for years.  I became a Steve Jobs fan when he went public with his battle.  RIP Steve, you fought until the end.  Go help God sync his iPad and his Mac. That way he can keep track of all of us warriors still left down here on earth.

Ripples in my melanoma pond

My boys had a doctor's appointment today. Luckily it was just a check up and not an ER follow up visit. (Very familiar with those around here).  In the course of the visit, I told the pediatrician about my melanoma diagnosis.  My dermatologist and Stanford's melanoma docs both recommended this so I followed through with their advice.

His support of me as a patient and a parent was wonderful.  He told me that he didn't see any suspicious sites on the boys and said he thought I'd be a much better resource for catching them anyways.  I didn't think he was minimizing his skill but more affirming how vigilant he knows I am now with watching their skin. I guess all this experience is worth something.

The interesting, unexpected part of this conversation was his comments about the boy's Vitamin D levels. Ok, self flogging ahead. I had added VitD to my daily vitamins after doing extensive research on this because I know my absorption of it from the sun is non-existent these days.  And yet, I never transferred this to my children.  I did not take into fact that their VitD levels have probably dropped even more this summer and I was already pretty good with sunscreen before my diagnosis.  Sheesh, talk about being self centered. The new, melanoma me freely told the doctor this and asked for his recommendation of VitD supplements for the boys.

I am not going to post his response for many reasons. #1 my boys are young but very skinny by genetics, so that plays a big factor.  And #2 I don't want anyone taking my blog post as medical advice or replacement for actually talking to their children's doctor.  Our kids are so different.  I also live in one of the sunniest states in the USA, which is another factor when added to how many activities we participate in outdoors.

I seriously worried about my diagnosis and my kids as in finding spots on their bodies. I never considered the VitD issue for them.  Small ripples in this huge pond of melanoma.  Again, this affects me and all of us in ways we don't always see. Luckily I now can see this one.  One more ripple.....

Uncomfortable flattery

As you know, I am a 6th grade teacher. Those kids are not quite little kids and not yet teenagers....they're in a weird sort of space. One minute they worship the ground I walk on and the next they are rolling their eyes at me and trying to start an argument.  And I love them.

On Friday, one of my more challenging students was up to no good.  It was clear he was not writing what he was supposed to be and I'm learning to work with him.  He's a special ed. student so every day is a new challenge.  Anyways, I walked over and asked him what he was working on.  (Obviously, I knew what he wasn't working on).  It's a technique that's worked well with him to try to redirect him to the task at hand.  I was completely unprepared for the following interaction.

Me: So, "R" what are you working on right now?
Student: I don't know what to write so I was thinking.
Me: Hhmm, I saw you using your red pen so I thought maybe you were making some edits to your rough draft.
Student: Nope, I needed to think so I gave myself some stitches on my arm just like yours. Aren't they cool?
Me: (Staring in amazement at an almost identical hand drawn scar on his left arm in the same spot. Stitch dots and all).  Wow, I'm flattered but I'd rather see you use the pen to edit your writing and not mark where my bionic arm needed new batteries.
Student: Sure, Mrs. P... but aren't my scars cool looking?
Me: (Smiling and trying not to laugh). Yes, "R" I think scars of any kind are cool.

I had to talk a few deep breaths to not laugh or cry at that moment.  He is a funny young man but don't get me wrong, he's about 40% of my daily work.  The fact that he still wants to "be like me" just floored me. It tells me that as a teacher, I am making an impact on him.  No, it isn't really about the scar. It's about that he is relating to me, he just identified that first.

I often tell people that I don't want to be identified and known as a melanoma patient. This young man has no idea that I'm a melanoma warrior. And he won't.  But yet, my scars are uniquely mine and identifiable.  I am gratified as a teacher that as much as he and I have to work on our relationship daily, sometimes hourly, that he looks up to me.  I'm flattered that my scariest moments ever are reminding me and my students that scars are the remnants of our battles and not what we truly are.  Even if they don't know anything about my battle at all.