Today, June 2, is National Cancer Survivor Day. It’s a day to recognize those that have been
diagnosed with and survived cancer of any type.
It’s a day for those who have cancer to feel hope that surviving is
possible. It’s a day for those who have not
been touched by cancer to take action to prevent it. It’s truly a day for all.
Skin cancer…even deadly melanoma…is often thought of as the
cancer that can “simply be cut out.” The
vast majority of skin cancer found is basal cell carcinoma which is rarely
deadly. For the most part, such a cancer is truly “simply cut out” with minimal
physical scarring as the end result. The
same is true for squamous cell carcinoma which is statistically more deadly,
but still usually far less invasive than melanoma, which accounts for 75% of
all skin cancer deaths. As for melanoma,
those who are diagnosed with Stage 0 or Stage 1 level cancer typically also
have their cancer “simply cut out.” Are
those who have skin cancers “simply cut out” with no additional treatments
considered survivors?
My brother was diagnosed with melanoma in 2004. He had a very large, ugly, and cancerous mole
removed from his back and was left with clear margins…no evidence of remaining
cancer. He was also left with a golf
ball-sized divot on his back but otherwise seemed unscarred. Was he a survivor? Jeff was reluctant to make that claim. Although he often volunteered for Relay for
Life, he never visited the survivors’ tent nor wore a special survivor t-shirt. He would look at other survivors, those who had
bald heads or were forced to walk with a cane and proclaim, “Those are the
survivors. Not me!”
Jeff was adamant about his friends and family wearing
sunscreen. He would often state, “You
don’t want to go what I went through!” He
also lived with the knowledge that one out of every three melanoma survivors
has a recurrence of the disease.
Whenever he would spot a new mole, or even a freckle, he would have it
checked out immediately. He became very
diligent about his skin.
I would ascertain that while Jeff didn’t show any obvious
physical scars (except for his rarely exposed back) he had many deep mental and
emotional scars. His whole outlook on
his skin changed. His insistence that
his little brother get his skin checked yearly showed that he was affected by
his experience. His involvement in Relay
for Life was a way for him to express his understanding of the cancer
world. He was indeed a survivor.
About a year after Jeff when through his melanoma experience,
a lump was felt on my prostate during a routine exam. I was sent to an urologist who also felt the
lump and determined that a biopsy was needed.
The results of that painful experience were inconclusive and another
biopsy was ordered. The second
experience was worse…but at least it showed no signs of cancer. Yes, the word cancer was spoken to me. And fear shot through me as soon as that word
was spoken. My mortality was suddenly
challenged. So many thoughts came to
mind as to what I might miss far sooner in life than expected. When I was told that no cancer was found, the
relief I felt was indescribable. I had a
new lease on life. My friends, this was
only from my doctor mentioning the possibility of cancer. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to
be told that indeed there IS cancer.
With that in mind, I completely support and agree that anyone
that has been diagnosed with cancer…even the simple “cut it out” cancers…is a
survivor. Being told that you have
cancer is a life changing event. If a
simple in-office surgery can eliminate it, than you are truly lucky and
blessed. But knowing you had cancer in
or on your body makes you feel vulnerable and violated. And you know it can happen again. You have survived it…hopefully for good..
My brother survived his first round, but he didn’t survive 6
years later. He died of melanoma on
November 15, 2010. My mother died of
lung cancer 5 years earlier on January 20, 2005. This past December, on December 20th,
2018, my dad also died of lung cancer.
My three family members all died of cancer. I’m the last surviving member. I hope to God that I won’t have to be called
a “survivor” in my life.
Cancer sucks. Honor a survivor today. And remember those
who have passed.