Unstoppable

Unstoppable

Ten years ago I was extremely motivated, specifically by what I could track and measure. At that time in my life I spent countless hours in the gym, on the track, and at the pool. I would have my workouts, my meals, and my rest periods all planned out for a month at a time. I was meticulous about tracking every single calorie consumed and each calorie burned. I created spreadsheets to track every detail of each work out. Calories tracked on the spreadsheet were broken down into their macronutrients. I could easily tell how much protein, fat, and carbohydrates I was getting just by reviewing my entries.

Not once did I deviate from my workout routine. I spent enough time each week to cover the hours of a full time job. I felt unstoppable and I was in the best shape of my life. A scout in Waikiki had even prospected me to do fitness modeling. Posing for pictures was definitely not my goal but I did enjoy the recognition for all the sweat and time I had invested. The modeling caused a heightened awareness of body image. I was started to become aware of, at the time, my many moles and freckles.

The military didn’t offer medical services for cosmetic purposes alone, but I decided to make the appointment anyway. Since I was there they examined me anyway.
“We aren’t able to remove any of these for cosmetic purposes, but you do have one that concerns me that I can remove today,” the doctor said.
I asked the doctor, “What’s wrong with this one, and how long until I will know the results?”
“The mole is of an irregular shape and has multiple colors to it. You will have the results within two weeks,” the doctor said.
The mole was removed and sent for biopsy that day. Two weeks soared by. I hadn’t even thought about the biopsy until I received a startling phone call. I was told to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

This was one of those moments when someone remembers where they were and what they were doing, when they heard the news. I would compare that moment to asking someone where they were on 9/11. The day I received the call I was at work in beautiful Hawaii. It was 80 degrees, and partly cloudy with a chance of rain that day. I just finished my pre-workout shake, the anticipation to go to the gym was growing. The excitement for working out was brief, the phone rang and the news I was given was daunting. It felt as though my life was flashing before my eyes, I felt helpless. That day’s forecast was just like every other day in Hawaii except for that phone call. The ominous news I was given was that I had cancer, malignant melanoma to be exact.

Not one person at work knew what to say to me, they just looked at me and said “sorry” and “I’m sure you’ll be okay” or “good luck with everything.” The comments felt sincere and empty at the same time. I knew when I left, work would go on as usual for everyone else. They had to focus on the mission and my mission suddenly changed from excelling in the Air Force, continuing my education, and being physically fit, to frantically hoping I would see tomorrow and the day after that. I went from feeling unstoppable to being short of breath. I thought cancer was something that happened to other people, it would never happen to me. I recall thinking, “How could someone get cancer when they are in the best shape of their life?”

I vividly remember my next dermatology appointment. I had to go through another excision to remove more tissue. They made me wait for what seemed like an eternity in a room that felt smaller than my closet at home. With each passing minute, I grew more anxious and terrified. I thought to myself “how can they leave me in here for so long, they must be out to lunch, I only have cancer!” While waiting for them to return, I read every pamphlet in the room. One of the pamphlets stated that over 85% of Americans will develop some kind of cancer in their lifetime. I couldn’t believe the percentage but little did I know that I would be diagnosed with skin cancer 3 more times by the age of 35 and probably more to follow.

Being vain is not a trait I would normally pride myself with, however in that moment, I was fortunate that vanity was a byproduct of getting into such great shape. It was my pursuit of perfection that led me to the dermatologist to be examined. I learned that many melanomas go unnoticed and by the time someone discovers that they have melanoma, it’s usually too late. Melanoma is the most deadly and fastest spreading cancer, the mortality rate rises dramatically unless it’s caught in the early stages. My cancer was caught before it had a chance to spread through the layers of skin to the nearest lymph node. The survival rate is 95% for melanoma patients who discover this cancer at the same stage I did. Once the cancer makes it to the blood stream and to the nearest lymph node, the chances for survival diminish. The lymphatic system is supposed rid our bodies of foreign objects. When it comes to melanoma, the lymphatic system becomes a super highway for the cancer.

I was told I would have to see a dermatologist every six months for the rest of my life. To this day I have had a total of 18 surgeries to remove suspected cancers, 4 of which came back positive and required additional excisions. Even as I tell this story I have stitches in my back from a recent biopsy that came back positive for melanoma. I have learned over the past seven years and several cancer scares, that life will go on for everyone else and that it must go on for me.

I’m certainly not unstoppable like I once thought I was. In an effort to not say an overused cliché like YOLO, which I think many people use as a way to justify and excuse poor behavior. I adhere to the mantra that “I should live like today will be my last but plan like tomorrow will never pass.” When I was first diagnosed with cancer it felt as if the sky was falling and my world was fading. Today when I receive a melanoma diagnosis, it’s just another day. There are many things that can take a life and cancer is just one of them. Until that day I’ll keep moving, learning, loving, and experiencing life the best way I know how.