Joining the growing ranks of Coloradans with a scary diagnosis: Melanoma

They had me at “melanoma.” When the dermatologist’s office called with the results of my biopsy, I don’t remember hearing much after that word.

Although the nurse on the other end was explaining in a measured tone something about needing further tests to see how deep the abnormal cells had grown, I wasn’t listening. I was watching my 1- and 3-yearold daughters playing in the backyard and considering the sudden possibility of not being there to watch them grow up.

Finally I regained my voice long enough to interrupt her: “You mean I have cancer?”

Like the many other Coloradans who have been diagnosed with melanoma, I did.

Our state’s ample sunshine, high elevations and wealth of outdoor activities put us at high risk for the deadly disease. The annual rate of new melanoma diagnoses in Colorado was 15 percent higher than the national average from 2002-06 and was the 13th highest in the U.S., according to the National Cancer Institute and Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Mine was growing on the back of my left calf, a place I wouldn’t normally see and couldn’t see when I was sporting my big baby belly. My midwife noticed the tick-like mole at a post-baby checkup and suggested I have it biopsied.

After an agonizing weeklong wait I found out I was lucky. My melanoma was shallow, less than a millimeter deep. When you catch melanoma that early, it’s 99 percent curable, according to the American Cancer Society. In its later stages, when the cancer has spread to other parts of your body, the five-year survival rate drops to about 15 percent.

It was “cancer light,” but it was cancer nonetheless. It was just what I’d always been warned about when I was sizzling by the pool all those childhood summers— oh wait, there weren’t any warnings. Thirty years ago we had no idea that one of the primary risk factors for skin cancer is sunburn.

Not only did I not wear sunscreen as a teen, I wore tanning oil to enhance the sun’s powers. At least I didn’t go as far as a couple of my friends who used Crisco (no, it isn’t an urban myth) to get the crispy, golden-brown look that was popular at the time.

My dermatologist, who cured me by simply cutting off that mole and the skin around it, points out that it’s only in the last 10 to 15 years that sun protection has become a big issue.

Nowwe know better— or do we? The incidence of many common cancers is falling, but the incidence of melanoma continues to rise significantly, especially among young

women.

This week at the pool I saw girls lined up on chaise lounges, their legs frying like hot dogs on the grill.

Of course, much of the melanoma in our state doesn’t come from folks working on their tans. It comes from folks working on their paddle strokes, their casts, their turns or their endurance on the trail.

Pitkin County, known more for its mountaintops than its swimming pools, has the highest rate of new melanoma diagnoses in the state and ranks among the highest 1 percent of counties nationwide.

But speaking of the Aspen area, I’m with one its most famous residents, the late John Denver, in sharing his sentiment that, “Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.” Like most Coloradans, I love to be outside— and even a skin-cancer diagnosis didn’t change that.

I took my dermatologist’s advice, though, and didn’t change my life, just my habits. I wear sunscreen every day, have acquired a widebrimmed-hat collection and try to stay out of the sun during mid-day. My daughters are dipped in a vat of sunscreen every morning.

But I’m still out gardening, cycling, swimming or running many of the hours ofmy summer days. So five years aftermy melanoma diagnosis, I’m still going in formy skin checks with a tan, albeit lighter and more gradually acquired.

Unfortunately, if you have a sunny past like my own, the damage may already be done. One blistering sunburn in childhood or adolescence more than doubles a person’s chances of developing melanoma later in life, according to a 1983 study.

My diagnosis brought back a childhood memory of blisters covering my body after I fell asleep in a metal canoe in the middle of a lake, in the middle of the day, in the middle of July.

The good news is that melanoma is one of the easiest cancers to diagnose, because you can do it yourself. Be on the lookout for moles that are asymmetrical, have irregular borders, vary in color from one area to another, are larger than a pencil eraser or change over time (more at aad.org).

Since my diagnosis I’ve had a lot of complete strangers show me their “funny-looking” moles.

I blame the scar. The 6-inch “S” on the back of my left calf gets people’s attention. When I tell them that’s where I found my funny-looking mole, they want to show me theirs.

I’m not just trying to get out of looking at strangers’ moles when I tell them to get it checked out by a professional (though it’s a nice side benefit). Having a dermatologist biopsy a questionable spot on your skin can save your life— it did mine.