Life AM (after melanoma) 2026

I was stage 4 and I survived.

Stage IIC melanotic melanoma on my 30th birthday.
1 Lung VATS procedure
6 rounds of biochemotherapy,
4 rounds of interleukin 2
1 Lung removal (left)
6 brain surgeries
2 Stereotactic Radiation treatments
and 1 focal brain radiation.(not in that order)

Last treatment was 2010. Last evidence of disease was 2008
(almmost 20 years NED at this point)

When I go to Sloan kettering for my yearly Brain MRI(I lost track after my 30th brain scan-probably close to 50 at this point.) I feel like I’m going to a family reunion, or on another victory lap.

Since then I have started a business (mobile veterinary service) with my battle partner-now wife(also a veterinarian) had a son who was named after my oncologist (Jedd) who now is 14 have torn down my old house and built a new one. Worked through COVID, and am now trying to figure out an exit plan for retirement. I don’t think at this point I know anyone on here. Shoutout to the old school though.

Enough of toot tooting my own horn though. I just want to show what the possibilities of life can be for a person who was in my shoes with regards to treatment. I think the odds of survival were 3% once melanoma spread to the brain at that point in time. I thought everything was hopeless, but in the end it worked out. The analogy I always tell people when they are first diagnosed and they feel like their life is going straight to the shitter, is building a skyscraper. Oftentimes when people are first diagnosed, (even stage IIs) it’s like being thrown out on the I-beams in the middle of a lightning storm (going on a planned plane crash-that was my analogy for my first brain surgery where the doctor mentioned braindamage and loss of motor function on the left side-has mostly returned). At first you are just clinging to the beams and feel like your life could end at any minute. Then you face your own mortality and realize you can hang on until you are swept away or just get to work and keep living like everyone else. Your fear of heights lessens, your balance improves and before you know it, you learn how to become a master craftsman using all the tools and help you can get from those around you. Along the way, their will be co-workers who fall off which is tragic and some actually have a lot more safety equipment then you and you can see all of the people partying over in the next building (which may seem unfair), but you just have to show up and keep grinding away and hope a big storm doesn’t come along and blow you away(your n=1). There are cold days but beautiful ones too, and without any windows bright sunlight and fresh air you gain a completely different perspective than everyone else. One that will make you different for the rest of your life, you would never wish this journey on anyone else, but it does make you a better person(other peoples regular problems seem ridiculous to you and you develop an empathy for what people are really upset about-their situation in life- maybe it’s more than being late for a train, they could have a relative being treated for a deadly disease, have been abused at another point in their life, been raised by crappy parents, even your doctor has their own problems-trust me they do, then again they could just be assholes they actually do exist.

In the end when you finally finish work on the skyscraper, you can retire in a nice cozy safe place(with people you love) or get to work on the next-helping people who are new to the jobsite, or both. (If you’ve been washed away or fallen off, you may have gotten an express ticket to an even better place already). Everything happens for a reason. Lots of small good decisions do add up to a big success in the end (no matter your situation) something as small as saying hello to a janitor matters in the long run.

I wish you all well and will keep you in my prayers. Hang in there. Life is tough, but in the end it’s worth it. Do good things.

John