Thanks to Parisa Vahdatinia for writing and letting me know about this great little clip on Current.com about the dangers of sun exposure. Skin cancer is a cancer that's largely preventable! Enjoy and pass it on!
http://current.com/items/88999331_scared_of_skin_cancer
Showing posts with label statistics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label statistics. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
You're not going to effin believe this.
Dear idiot,Let's not even go into what a spit in my face this postcard is.
I could go into the facts, but I have a feeling you're not reading this blog.
I will say hope that you are very, very young and naive. Otherwise you could be throwing a year of your life away to a
horrible, painful treatment. Or you could be throwing your entire life away for --- wait for it--- a trend.That's right.
The equivalent of dieing for a mullet.
Or a slap bracelet.
Or any number of other bad fads.
It's called spray-on, and you'll live if it's uneven.
-MM
What a sad, simple life you must lead.
And for those of you who do pride yourself on being more informed, I'll present the facts. Tell your friends! And even idiots you despise like the one above who made the postcard.
The facts:
*Skin cancer is the #1 diagnosed cancer, and the third most commonly diagnosed cancer among women 2o-39 years of age.
*More than 90% of skin cancer is caused by sun and tanning bed exposure.
*Each hour, one person dies from skin cancer.
*One in 5 people will be diagnosed with it.
*One in 41 men and one in 61 women will develop melanoma in their lifetime.
*The rate of melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer, has more than doubled between 1973 and 1996.
*Melanoma is more common than any non-skin cancer among people between 25 and 29 years old.
*An estimated 7,400 deaths from melanoma and 2,200 from other skin cancers were expected in 2002 and more than 7,800 died from melanoma alone.
*The death rate from melanoma for men is almost twice that of women due to late detection *Melanoma is now the fastest growing cancer in the U.S. here have been no significant advances in the medical treatment or survival rate in the last 30 years.
* One blistering sunburn in childhood or adolescence more than doubles a person's chances of developing melanoma later in life.
* Exposure to tanning beds before age 35 increases melanoma risk by 75 percent.
* On an average day, more than one million Americans use tanning salons.
* New high-pressure sunlamps emit doses of UVR that can be as much as 12 times that of the sun.
And for our finale....
*In women 25-29, melanoma is the primary cause of cancer death, and in women 30-34 it is the second most common cause of cancer death.
*In the U.S. your chance of getting melanoma in 1940 was 1 in 1500. By 2004, it was 1 in 67. By 2010, scientists predict it will be 1 in 50.
*The incidence of melanoma has increased 690 percent from 1950 to 2001, and the overall mortality rate increased 165 percent during this same period.
*If caught in the earliest stages, melanoma is entirely treatable with a survival rate of nearly 100%. If untreated and allowed to spread, there is no known treatment or cure.
Doctors don't regularly screen for melanoma and patients often find their own so go to our "Examine Your Skin" page to do yours NOW!
What to watch for: A change in size, shape or color. The features of change to watch for in moles are the A, B, C, D and E’s of detection.
Asymmetry — Two halves of a lesion that are not the same
Border — Borders of a lesion are irregular, scalloped or vague
Color — Color varies from one area to another, including shades of tan or brown as well as black, blue, red and white
Diameter — A lesion that is greater than 6 millimeters in diameter, about the size of a pencil eraser
Evolution — Lesions that change or evolve, or is ELEVATED or raised above the skin and has a rough surface
You should also watch for the following skin changes:
A mole that bleeds
A fast-growing mole
A scaly or crusted growth on the skin
A sore that won't heal
A mole that itches
A place on your skin that feels rough, like sandpaper
Let's be safe out there, people.
-MM
Friday, September 14, 2007
My Story
In May 2005, months before I had turned 31 years old, I was working as a medical assistant in a not-for- profit clinic. I had moved to Dallas from San Diego the previous December to be with my dad who had terminal renal cell carcinoma. He past away in January and I decided to stay in Texas, near my family, for a while. I took the job at the clinic because I really loved the doctors that worked there- they really viewed their position as doctors as a means to serve society- and needed work, but mostly because I felt they were doing good things and I needed to be out of the house, keeping myself busy, not wallowing in grief.
The job did not offer insurance, but I did not plan on staying there long-term, so I wasn't worried about it. The doctors really took care of their nurses, though, and one day, while showing a nurse friend my pedicure, I asked a doc to take a look at a mole on my toe. The mole had been there my whole life, and had within the last year started to bleed. It sat square near the top of my smallest toe, but I was a runner, and ran about 25 miles a week, so I always assumed it was just irritated from that. Dr. Daya told me to go across the street to a dermatologist friend of his to have it removed. The derma took a look at it and said it was probably nothing to worry about, but needed to come off. It was perfectly symmetrical, had clear borders and normal color. I asked how much the lab fees would be because I was paying cash and not making great money. I also asked if it could be sent diagnostic lab I was familiar with, simply because I knew their prices. He said we would work it out but insisted on using a laboratory which specialized in derma cases. They gave me the number to an automated system and said the lab results would be ready in a week. I didn't think much of it.
A week later the doctor I was working for, Dr. Daya, called me into an exam room. I was a little freaked because the only reason I could conceive of him wanting to talk to me one-on-one was because I had done something wrong and was going to be in trouble. He was looking at the floor and very solemn, and told me he was sorry to be the one to tell me, but that I had cancer. "Nodular malignant melanoma," he said, "a very aggressive form of skin cancer." He said I needed to get immediate care or that I was in danger of dieing.
A month after the diagnosis, I finally found someone to who would see me even if I didn't have insurance. It took weeks of begging and searching and networking, but we finally found Dr. Beitch and Dr. Venkatessan. So, here's the short version:
May 2005- Diagnosed at Stage II.
June 2005- I went to an outpatient hospital and had the skin and some of the flesh around my toe removed, a skin graft taken from my thigh, and 3 lymph nodes from my groin to determine if the cancer had spread. Two weeks later the results came in that the borders around the skin left on my foot were positive for melanoma as well as 1 of the 3 lymph nodes. Now considered Stage IIIc.
July 2005- I had my smallest toe, part of my foot, and all 16 lymph nodes from my groin removed in outpatient surgery.
Outpatient surgery is no fun, especially if there is abdominal surgery involved. The incision started about half way down my thigh, crossed over just above my hip, and stopped about 3 inches above the hip bone. They also removed my little pinky toe and a small part of my foot at the same time. It was, how do you say?, intensely painful, especially since I didn't have insurance at the time and
had to do a "day surgery," which basically meant that after I came to, I had to get the hee-haw outta there. That meant getting out of the bed and into a wheelchair, out of the wheelchair and into a car, out of the car and walking into the house. Ouch. Yes, there were pain meds, but nothing really prepares you for walking (or should I say attempting to walk? more like dragging myself on crutches) just hours after they staple (87 staples, by the way) you shut. A full 10 on the one-to-ten pain scale. I didn't even know that pain like that could exist. Forget childbirth, if that's what it's like.
August 2005- I began high dose Interferon in a hospital. Interferon is a biological therapy/ immunotherapy for high risk patients. The treatment is a little dangerous and has pretty serious side effects so it required 5 day hospital stays for 4 weeks.
September 2005- The treatment lowers your ability to fight infection, and in early Sept I discovered that my leg was red and tender, and I had 102 fever. I had contracted a staph infection and had to stay another 3 weeks in the hospital fighting that.
October 2005- I was sent home and Rxed low dose Interferon to be self administed by injection for the next 11 months. I would be very sick and unable to work. Off and on through the year I was sick, jaudiced, and had heart palpitations and trouble remaining ambulatory. Spent some of the time in a wheel chair.
October 2006- Finished the treatments, but the treatment had caused a condition similiar to chronic fatigue syndrome. Spent a full year and a half combating those symptoms.
June 2007- Routine PET scan showed an inflamed inguinal node which doctors were concerned was melanoma. Node was removed but no evidence of disease found.
Present- The majority of the symptoms from Interferon have subsided. Currently NED (no evidence of disease.)
There is no remission for melanoma, because there is no cure, and, essentially, it's going to come back. There isn't even really a treatment for it. Even Interferon, which I took for a year, is rarely Rxed anymore because the results are so iffy (only a 6%-20% chance of staving off disease) and the side effects are so horrendous. Interleukin 2 (or IL-2) is also a treatment option, but has about the same results and even worse on the side effect side. I prefer quality of life to doing a treatment like that again. According to the American Cancer Society and most of the doctors I've seen over the last 3 years (and there have been a lot!) my chance of living to 2010 ranges from around 27% to around 52% and my chance of living to 2015 ranges from around 22% to around 37%. But, to quote Fight Club, "On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." In a way, I'm lucky because at least I'm not going to work some shit job that I hate in the hopes of one day, after retirement or something, enjoying life. I enjoy it now. I live as fully as I can. And it's a good life.
There are some very hopeful treatments for melanoma in clinical trials now, such as vaccines. But until some kind of effective treatment comes out, I am not getting regular scans. My oncologist kinda said, "What's the point? There's no treatment anyway." and I agree. If I get scans every 6 months, I'll be a nervous wreck until the next one. So, I'm taking it as it is.
I'm hopeful about the future. But more importantly, I love the present. It's all we have, anyway.
The job did not offer insurance, but I did not plan on staying there long-term, so I wasn't worried about it. The doctors really took care of their nurses, though, and one day, while showing a nurse friend my pedicure, I asked a doc to take a look at a mole on my toe. The mole had been there my whole life, and had within the last year started to bleed. It sat square near the top of my smallest toe, but I was a runner, and ran about 25 miles a week, so I always assumed it was just irritated from that. Dr. Daya told me to go across the street to a dermatologist friend of his to have it removed. The derma took a look at it and said it was probably nothing to worry about, but needed to come off. It was perfectly symmetrical, had clear borders and normal color. I asked how much the lab fees would be because I was paying cash and not making great money. I also asked if it could be sent diagnostic lab I was familiar with, simply because I knew their prices. He said we would work it out but insisted on using a laboratory which specialized in derma cases. They gave me the number to an automated system and said the lab results would be ready in a week. I didn't think much of it.
A week later the doctor I was working for, Dr. Daya, called me into an exam room. I was a little freaked because the only reason I could conceive of him wanting to talk to me one-on-one was because I had done something wrong and was going to be in trouble. He was looking at the floor and very solemn, and told me he was sorry to be the one to tell me, but that I had cancer. "Nodular malignant melanoma," he said, "a very aggressive form of skin cancer." He said I needed to get immediate care or that I was in danger of dieing.
A month after the diagnosis, I finally found someone to who would see me even if I didn't have insurance. It took weeks of begging and searching and networking, but we finally found Dr. Beitch and Dr. Venkatessan. So, here's the short version:
May 2005- Diagnosed at Stage II.
June 2005- I went to an outpatient hospital and had the skin and some of the flesh around my toe removed, a skin graft taken from my thigh, and 3 lymph nodes from my groin to determine if the cancer had spread. Two weeks later the results came in that the borders around the skin left on my foot were positive for melanoma as well as 1 of the 3 lymph nodes. Now considered Stage IIIc.
July 2005- I had my smallest toe, part of my foot, and all 16 lymph nodes from my groin removed in outpatient surgery.
Outpatient surgery is no fun, especially if there is abdominal surgery involved. The incision started about half way down my thigh, crossed over just above my hip, and stopped about 3 inches above the hip bone. They also removed my little pinky toe and a small part of my foot at the same time. It was, how do you say?, intensely painful, especially since I didn't have insurance at the time and
had to do a "day surgery," which basically meant that after I came to, I had to get the hee-haw outta there. That meant getting out of the bed and into a wheelchair, out of the wheelchair and into a car, out of the car and walking into the house. Ouch. Yes, there were pain meds, but nothing really prepares you for walking (or should I say attempting to walk? more like dragging myself on crutches) just hours after they staple (87 staples, by the way) you shut. A full 10 on the one-to-ten pain scale. I didn't even know that pain like that could exist. Forget childbirth, if that's what it's like.August 2005- I began high dose Interferon in a hospital. Interferon is a biological therapy/ immunotherapy for high risk patients. The treatment is a little dangerous and has pretty serious side effects so it required 5 day hospital stays for 4 weeks.
September 2005- The treatment lowers your ability to fight infection, and in early Sept I discovered that my leg was red and tender, and I had 102 fever. I had contracted a staph infection and had to stay another 3 weeks in the hospital fighting that.
October 2005- I was sent home and Rxed low dose Interferon to be self administed by injection for the next 11 months. I would be very sick and unable to work. Off and on through the year I was sick, jaudiced, and had heart palpitations and trouble remaining ambulatory. Spent some of the time in a wheel chair.
October 2006- Finished the treatments, but the treatment had caused a condition similiar to chronic fatigue syndrome. Spent a full year and a half combating those symptoms.
June 2007- Routine PET scan showed an inflamed inguinal node which doctors were concerned was melanoma. Node was removed but no evidence of disease found.
Present- The majority of the symptoms from Interferon have subsided. Currently NED (no evidence of disease.)
There is no remission for melanoma, because there is no cure, and, essentially, it's going to come back. There isn't even really a treatment for it. Even Interferon, which I took for a year, is rarely Rxed anymore because the results are so iffy (only a 6%-20% chance of staving off disease) and the side effects are so horrendous. Interleukin 2 (or IL-2) is also a treatment option, but has about the same results and even worse on the side effect side. I prefer quality of life to doing a treatment like that again. According to the American Cancer Society and most of the doctors I've seen over the last 3 years (and there have been a lot!) my chance of living to 2010 ranges from around 27% to around 52% and my chance of living to 2015 ranges from around 22% to around 37%. But, to quote Fight Club, "On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." In a way, I'm lucky because at least I'm not going to work some shit job that I hate in the hopes of one day, after retirement or something, enjoying life. I enjoy it now. I live as fully as I can. And it's a good life.
There are some very hopeful treatments for melanoma in clinical trials now, such as vaccines. But until some kind of effective treatment comes out, I am not getting regular scans. My oncologist kinda said, "What's the point? There's no treatment anyway." and I agree. If I get scans every 6 months, I'll be a nervous wreck until the next one. So, I'm taking it as it is.
I'm hopeful about the future. But more importantly, I love the present. It's all we have, anyway.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
GREAT NEWS!
Ok, we are stunned, speechless, literally.
Not only did the oncologist just come in to check on Lori, he also brought the path report.
NO MELANOMA!!!!!
When the oncologist did the PET scan, he was 99% sure it was melanoma. 1% baby, crazy odds, but we'll take 'em!
We don't know what to say or think. We didn't expect any news until Friday. We can't thank everyone enough for all of your prayers, thoughts and well wishes.
Stunned. Completely Stunned.
More to come...
Bobby
Not only did the oncologist just come in to check on Lori, he also brought the path report.
NO MELANOMA!!!!!
When the oncologist did the PET scan, he was 99% sure it was melanoma. 1% baby, crazy odds, but we'll take 'em!
We don't know what to say or think. We didn't expect any news until Friday. We can't thank everyone enough for all of your prayers, thoughts and well wishes.
Stunned. Completely Stunned.
More to come...
Bobby
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
White and pasty is HOT!
Saw this great video and just had to share it with all of you! This guy is my hero, by the way.
-MM
P.S. Did you know...
One person dies every hour from skin cancer.
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