Skin cancer is something that runs in my family. My grandfather has had basal cell removed and is constantly having biopsies on his face. My mom has had Mohs surgery on her forehead and had melanoma on her left calf as well. Growing up, my mother always warned everyone to stay out of the sun, but I was always about tanning. When I reached my early 20’s, I pulled back from the bronzing and started to take better care of myself. In all honesty, I did it to preserve my youth.
This past summer when I was 30, I went on a trip with a big group of friends to a camp in Wisconsin. The first two products that went in my bag were SPF 50 and bug spray. I was the most careful one on the trip—constantly reapplying both products—but of course, I returned home covered in bites on my legs. 43 bites to be exact. 43 bites that itched so badly I couldn’t sleep. Two weeks later they were still there, mostly concentrated in one area of my left calf.
I was getting ready for my cousin’s wedding, carefully applying my anti-itch cream, when I noticed a spot in the middle of all the bites. It was a freckle the size of the tip of a permanent market. It looked strange. Sort of scabbed. I was pretty sure it was always there, but it had never looked like this. I sent a photo to the doctor who does all of my facials. She said the scabbing could be from scratching the area and to apply Vaseline daily until I could come in to get it checked. When I realized that it was the same spot on the same leg where my mom had melanoma removed, my gut told me it was cancer.
After returning to Chicago, I went into the office to have the doctor look at my leg and was sent directly to Northwestern Skin Cancer Institute. I was nervous. At 31 years old, I admittedly had never had a full-body scan before. I was always careful, so I didn’t think I needed to. Two biopsies and seven days later, I received the news that the funky freckle was indeed melanoma. I tried not to cry but I was terrified. I also felt fortunate. I had found my spot extremely early and with an excision, I would fine.
I called my mom and said “what are the odds” that I had melanoma in the same spot, same leg. It turns out the lower calf is actually an extremely common spot. It’s right where those slightly cropped workout pants end. A place often missed. A place I never thought to apply SPF when I was out and about!
The day of my excision was nerve racking. My new doctor explained the procedure. I couldn’t believe that this freckle, that was maybe a 1/4 of an inch, required a cut that was about 4.5 inches long, an inch wide and deep enough to cut to the muscle!
Physically, it was a difficult healing process. The excision was just below my calf, which meant it was pulled every time I took a step. There was a lot of swelling, but elevating was hard because it hurt to even rest it on a pillow. And I wasn’t healing well. Mentally, it was difficult as well. I couldn’t really exercise which is a big part of my mental health. Then there was the fear. Fear of being outside and exposed to the sun. I felt so fortunate to have caught this early, but the pain made me terrified of finding more spots on my body.
Throughout the process, I decided to share parts of the experience through social media. I was nervous at first, but the feedback and comments I began receiving were so up lifting. People began to share their stories with me, and I realized I wasn’t alone. But the best part was the amount of messages I received from people—friends, acquaintances, strangers—thanking me for sharing and telling me they just booked a full body scan because of my story.
I am now six months out of my excision and my mindset has completely changed. I realized I cannot live operating from a place of fear of melanoma. I have to live my life and take the necessary precautions. I am much kinder on my body, placing less stress on looks and weight. Instead, I am grateful for my health. I have also changed my ideas on what “influencing” means to me. My goal is to spread knowledge and awareness about melanoma and help people stay uplifted and informed. If sharing my story inspires others to book an appointment that could save their lives, then I know I am doing something right.
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