“Trena, you have melanoma and you are going to lose your toe. “ WHAT?!?!
I am a Black woman in her sixties—that is crazy!!
My name is Trena Brown. Retired from corporate life, I was in the process of travelling to places on my bucket list when in March 2013, I learned that the “blister” on my great right toe was not a blister. It revealed its ugly bubble near the toenail, near a spot that had previously been excised in 2011 because of severely darkened skin in an irregular pattern. However, the biopsy results were benign and the margins were clear so “I’m good!” So how is it possible that I had melanoma? My doctor was explaining it all to me but I was not hearing anything except my own wild sobs and screaming.
Two weeks later with a cast up to my knee I am grateful for my family, neighbors and friends who are helping me literally get back on my feet. Some people had no clue what the word melanoma meant and thought I had an amputation due to diabetes. Others thought that melanin not only beautifies skin, but protects it. So why would this happen to any of us with lots of melanin?
After the amputation, my doctor had used the same words again…”the margins were clear”….and this time surely they were, since I no longer had a big toe. I relegated myself to visiting my reconstructive surgeon, my dermatologist, and my oncologist every three months. In six months, I was able to take a pre-scheduled trip to China, and in a year, I was back in my Zumba class, seeing my trainer at the gym, and enjoying dancing at parties again. “I’m good!”
In December of 2015, I told my PCP that sometimes when I was outside, I seemed to have labored breathing. He suggested I stop downstairs on my way out and get a chest x-ray. In the following days, my doctor told me I needed both a CT scan and lung biopsy.
In 48 hours after the biopsy, I got a message from MyChart, saying I had “test results.” With my brother and sister-in-law on the phone for support, I opened the results to see the entire page filled with print, but my eyes focus on the line in the center that had two words in bold print: Metastatic Melanoma. My brother was talking to me but all I could hear were my own wild sobs and screaming.
Three years ago, there was no cure. Surely God put angels on my shoulders because now, as I started telling friends and family about my condition and my oncologist’s recommendation for immunotherapy, I found that there were quite a few people in the clinical trials who had amazing success. A friend introduced me via e-mail to Louise Perkins who invited me to a Melanoma Research Alliance reception in Washington DC where I had the opportunity to meet several survivors. I also talked to several doctors about their interest in melanoma and what they hoped to see in the coming years. It was a very uplifting experience that helped me focus through the Yervoy/Opdivo drips and envision a positive outcome where “I’m going to be good.”
In May of 2016, I had CT scans to determine my progress after starting immunotherapy in February. Because I had not experienced any symptoms throughout my immunotherapy, I always considered that I was improving. If President Carter could beat this at his age then I surely should be able to. Later that day, I finally get a call from the doctor with words I actually can hear:
“Trena, you have had outstanding results from your immunotherapy! The nodules have shrunk to be miniscule and the swollen lymph node is a normal size”.
YES!!! No screaming, no sobs, just tears of joy!
So now I am in Phase Two—maintenance. I continue to let people know that African-Americans can get melanoma I encourage people to check out any abnormalities on their skin, wear sunscreen, and see dermatologists. I am only one person, but hopefully one person who can help educate my community on melanoma, and as well as the advances that are being made.
I truly believe my best days are yet to come.