Third....
I am a stage four metastatic melanoma cancer survivor.
I first got the cancer in the form of a mole, in 1987, as a result of the work I did- outside, wearing a toolbelt that allowed the tools to rub across a mole I'd grown up with, along with regular sunburns...
In August of 1990, I was preparing to get married. Like a typical sunworshipper of sunny southern California, living in a beach town, and was learning to follow Jesus, I figured...
Gee Steve! I should probably do the responsible thing and get this mole checked out.
So, I went to the local insurance covered dermatologist and explained it...
He biopsied the mole, went into a back room, and returned a few minutes later with- "it's benign! Go have a nice life!"
To which I responded-- "Great! Thanks! I will!"
With great excitement...
A couple weeks later I got a call from the doctor's office saying that my pathology results came back benign, with the same statement... it's benign! Go have a great life...
Again, with even more excitement... saying...
Great! Thanks! I will!!!!
18-24 months later I had a lump show up in my groin, and it hurt like the dickens!
I mentioned it to my wife and she said to visit her GP. Since I didn't have a doctor, I agreed.
I did,and upon discussing it, he considered it as an infection of the lymph node, which an antibiotic would handle. He told me- sounds like you had an infection that a lymph node took on, and it turned to scar tissue. Here's an antibiotic. If you have any further problems, let me know and we'll take it to the next level.
Not having any medical experience, beyond jobsite and field first aid, I agreed, and went on about my life. The pain went away and the lump remained.
A year or so later, we moved to where we live now. By 1995, I had a problem with something else, and while talking to the surgeon about it, I asked about the lump in my groin.
He said everything that was not helpful...
Oh, I don't know. Why don't we just cut you open and have a look.
Thankfully my wife's insurance didn't cover the hospital, so I was able to disregard his "medical opinion" and move on.
In late 1996, I was on a project that had been a dream come true for me... working on a metal roofing project up at Lake Tahoe.
I'd been hearing about it for a couple years, and had really wanted to do it.
As God usually does, he set up all the various elements necessary, and I got a job with the company who had acquired the first phase of the multi-phase project.
I was ecstatic... my dream.... at that time....
Within a few weeks I began to notice that my thigh was getting numb. I figured it was the safety harness I was using. I spoke to the safety manager and got the harness properly cinched up.
I gave it a week or two before I began to realize that it was getting worse.
I went to the local sports injury urgent care facility-- it was an urgent care outfit that cared for ski injuries.
He said I was wearing too many layers of clothing...
I responded- duh! There's 6 feet of snow on the ground! Of course I'm wearing too many layers. I work outdoors, on a roof, installing sheet metal products. It's like working with razor blades! I have to wear heavy leather, lined gloves too.
So, I decided that I'd have to wait until the spring (we had an especially hard winter that year. Ever heard about the flood of 1997, or the new year's flood, of 1997?
We lived through it.
The weekend before Christmas in 1996, we got 3 to 3-1/2 feet of snow at the 4800 ft level. The roads in and out of lake Tahoe were closed because they got so much snow.
People who stayed up there past Friday night were stuck until the day after Christmas.
I had gone home, so I was good. But coworkers remained and were stuck there.
By December 27th the rain started. By the 29th, ALL the snow, from the 9000' level down was melted.... several million cubic feet of snow, turned to liquid water.
The valley I lived in was literally closed for access on the various highways. Our mildly meandering river was over a mile wide, and the highway under 3-6' of water.
The capitol city too was closed.
In order to get to the small towns 10-13 miles away, we had to drive up highway 50, to lake Tahoe and then down Kingsbury to the town, and then on one specific road once in the valley.
Once the winter was over, I was working on various projects in the region, and my thigh kept getting worse. By April, my insurance went into effect and I was looking for someone who could help.
I finally found a surgeon who was qualified. I had to wait until June of that year.
I visited the doctor, got the biopsy and yep... metastatic melanoma cancer.
At that point it was stage 3.
Thus, began a whirlwind of activities that completely changed my life.
CT scans, doctor appointments, trips back and forth to San Francisco and the melanoma cancer clinic.
By July 3rd, I left my old career, and thought I'd be back by November 1997 at the latest.
Nope.
I left for good.
July 11, 1997, first of 6 surgeries.
August 1997- began 5 weeks of radiation therapy.
October 1997, began 1 yr clinical trial.
November 1997, went to Vocational Rehab for access to attend college... I was a high school dropout, didn't get my GED until I was 21.
January 1998- Began a semester of freshman classes in local college.
October 1998, was told that they wanted me on a second trial, as "too many people were dying within a year after finishing the 1 yr trial.
So, I began a 3 year trial.
June 1999- 2nd surgery. Got into my small intestines. I was categorized as stage 4.
I was told that it's common for melanoma to typically kill within one to two years and generally heads to the brain once it "breaches" the original site.
I was "strongly encouraged" to get into another clinical trial. This one was what they called- whole brain radiation in prophylaxis.
I.e., nuke the brain before any cancer shows up, to keep it from going there in the first place!
I decided to talk to my local radiation oncologist, because they wouldn't talk to me about it. My local one agreed to talk with them, and they agreed to talk to the local.
Once that conversation took place, my local one and I talked...
My primary concern was-- what guarantee do I have that it won't destroy my ability to reason clearly.
I asked him how long those who were involved lived afterwards.
Apparently the trial was quite new, and nobody had been alive long enough to have experienced any significant long term effects...
He said- if it was me, I wouldn't do it.
Within a few weeks afterwards, my oncologists began bandying about the word- miracle.
Totally unsolicited by me, or my wife.
Thus began a 14 year collection of doctors stating I am a miracle for surviving advanced metastatic melanoma cancer for as long as I have.
By 2013, I began to ask them to stop, because the way they were stating it left me with an increasing amount of stress, wondering why I was still alive.
I've lost my mom from lung cancer with metastasis to the brain.
My mother in law from kidney failure by type 2 diabetes.
My grandfather by mesothelioma cancer from a career as a plumber working with asbestos.
Another friend by type 1 diabetes.
I saw numerous people die from various health issues. A lot of cancer...
I recall a lot of madness and sorrow.
All my oncologists, GP, Internal Medicine doctors have all declared that I am a miracle.
I'm now coming up on my 20th anniversary of my last (6th) surgery...
