“When you’re a nurse, you advocate for your patients daily. They put their trust in us to take are of them. So when the roll was reversed, I thought I was being cared for. But unfortunately, I was dismissed, gaslit and told I was being “dramatic” a few times. So for almost three years, while working a very demanding job, I dismissed a mole on my right arm that had been changing. I kept telling myself, maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m not doing the cream right. Everything but advocating for myself. Not only did it grow and darken, it would itch and bleed. It developed a jagged edge with a darker border. I knew something was wrong, but kept being told it didn’t need a biopsy, didn’t need a dermatology referral and “just keep putting the steroid cream on it.”

I finally made my own dermatology appointment. I know sometimes that is hard to do, but I explained my mole and how long it had been there, and had an appointment shortly after. A biopsy was performed almost instantly. 2 weeks later, on August 28, 2025 I received a text from my doctor, “Hey where are you right now?” We all know what that means, definitely not good. The phone call that followed changed my life forever, I had invassive malignant melanoma, and it was deep. Deep enough that I needed to be referred to a surgical oncologist and preferably a melanoma specialist. My dermatologist was wonderful and knew how long it had been untreated, so she and another nurse practitioner friend got to work getting me the quickest appointment possible.

Telling my husband, children and family I had melanoma was not something I would wish on anyone. At the time my children were 15 and 10 and they did not take it well. It wasn’t a procedure I was going to be able to hide until I knew the biopsy results. It was going to look like a shark took a bite out of my arm. I had to tell them. Then came the question, “mama, are you going to die?” What do you even say to that?! “Well I hope not.” Do you lie? Beause truthfully, I didn’t know if it had spread yet, so my answer would not have been the truth. We did a lot of learning, crying, talking. I notified their schools of what we were going through so they could seek help at school if they needed it. I hope everyone has that kind of relationship with their childrens’ schools, because they were wonderful.

On September 16, 2025, I met with a wonderful doctor at UAB in Birmingham, AL and she had a cancellation on the 19th and could go ahead and do my wide local excision and sentinel lymph node biopsy. She really didn’t want me waiting another month to have my surgery. I was forwarned about the size of my excision, but I don’t think I processed what I was being told. When I woke up in recovery, I cried. I cried when I got home. I cried from the pain. I cried because I knew this big of a procedure could have been prevented. I should have kept pushing, I should have trusted my intuition, I cried because I felt like I didn’t matter to someone I respected and worked for for almost a decade.

After almost a month, my lymph node biopsy was clear and I was cancer free.

Life after melanoma has been a whirlwind of emotions. I hated my arm and my scar. I have a lot of pain and nerve damage with no feeling at the same time. It’s hard to describe. I have gotten two steroid injections into my scar for keloids, and I see my dermatologist every 3 months for skin checks. I have not had another biopsy since my diagnosis, althought there are spots that we are watching closely.

Another thing I wasn’t truly prepared for, was the toll my mental health would take after my diagnosis. Yes, I’m cancer free, but my mind doesn’t believe that. I feel like I’m constantly having to calm myself down if I think something has changed. You subconsciously feel your lymph nodes. You google things you shouldn’t. You dream about it returning. You lose people you love, whether you’ve met them in person or talk every day via facetime. It is a lot to process. It’s something I struggle with daily.

Even though I’m new to the melanoma world, I jumped into advocacy very quickly. I needed to channel my frustration and emotions into something or I would go insane. I have met the most amazing people. My “melahomies” have been such a blessing through my entire journey. I also was awarded a scholarship to attend Melanoma Research Foundation Advocacy Days in Washington D.C. I had an amazing experience and learned so much. It is intimidating and empowering to lobby for something so personal to you and to people you love.

I’ve had so many opportunitis to spread awareness since my diagnosis. I was invited to throw out the first pitch for the Strike Out Cancer softball game at Troy University, as well as go on to our local radio station to tell my story.

I hope what you take away from my story, is to always advocate for yourself. Get a second and third opinion if you’re not being heard. You deserve a provider or specialist that you trust that will listen to you.

Make sure you’re seeing a board certified dermatologist for your annual skin exams. A quick, 15-20 minute skin exam can save your life. If caught early, melanoma is treatable with higher chances of survival.

-Wear your sunscreen. Whatever kind you like, wear it and reapply it often

Always seek shade when you can

Wear wide brimmed hats and sun protective clothing

Don’t use tanning beds or intentionally lay out in the sun.

“The Episode That Wasn’t Supposed to Be Mine

In March 2009, millions of people watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy where a young female doctor named Izzy Stevens was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic melanoma right before her wedding.

It was dramatic. Emotional. Unimaginable.

And for me, it was Familiar – because I was living that exact story in real life.

Just a few months earlier, in December 2008, I had found a lump in my groin and had been diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic melanoma myself. The only difference?

My diagnosis came right before my 40th birthday, not a TV wedding.

Like Izzy, I went through surgery. Mine was 5 ½ hours and the surgical oncologist removed ALL the lymph nodes from my left leg and pelvis area.

Like Izzy, I endured high-dose Interleukin-2 (IL-2), one of the most aggressive and toxic treatments available. But I had to stop mid-way since my liver was beginning to fail from the toxins.

And like Izzy… I survived.

But unlike an ending to a TV character’s storyline that wraps things up in a couple of episodes, my story keeps going. There’s only the next decision. And the one after that.

The Decisions That Matter Most

After surgery and IL-2, my oncologist and I had to decide what came next. At the time, options were limited. Immunotherapy research was still emerging, and many of the treatments available today were not available to me, since they were still in clinical trials.

We chose to use an existing drug called GM-CSF (Leukine), that is typically used to stimulate the patient’s own production of white blood cells, specifically used after chemotherapy. For me, it became something else entirely: a long-term maintenance regime and defense-system type therapy, hoping to enhance my immune cell activity and fight off any remaining melanoma cancer cells.

Two weeks on. Two weeks off.
For thirteen years. That’s a long relationship with a syringe.

That decision, and the partnership with my doctor, shaped everything that followed.

So, while I was engaged in this long-term commitment with an uncertain, unconventional treatment and grasping to hope, something incredible was happening around me: medicine was evolving.

The options that weren’t approved by the FDA when I was diagnosed, are now saving lives every single day. Survival rates have improved dramatically. What once felt like a long shot is now, for many, a very real chance.

That progress didn’t happen by accident. It happened because of research, advocacy, and people who refused to accept the status quo.

Looking back, I realize something important: If you’re navigating melanoma today, there are two decisions that will matter more than anything else:

1. Choose your oncologist carefully.
This is not just a doctor, it’s your partner. Do your research. Get second opinions. Visit multiple medical centers. Trust your instincts. You deserve someone who listens, who explains, and who treats you like a human being, not just a case.

2. Understand your treatment options.
The landscape has changed dramatically. In 2009, I was given a 10% chance of surviving ten years and a choice of only 3 undesirable, highly toxic, therapies: Chemotherapy, Interferon and IL-2. Today, thanks to advances in immunotherapy and research, survival rates have improved in ways we couldn’t have imagined back then and, there are multiple immunotherapies and combinations to choose from.

So once those 2 decisions are made, hold on to them with confidence, try to let go of the doubt, be hopeful, because HOPE is as powerful as any medication I have ever taken. And the good news is that hope is no longer the exception. It’s becoming the expectation.

What I Wish Everyone Knew About Melanoma

The most important part of my melanoma story isn’t actually about what happened after my diagnosis — it’s about what could have happened before it.

So here it is. The simplest, most important advice I can give you:

1. Wear sunscreen. Every day.

Not just at the beach. Not just on sunny days. Every day your skin is exposed.
Protect your skin like it matters, because it does.

2. Avoid sunburns, tanning beds and over exposure to the sun at any cost.

A tan and sunburns are skin damage, it’s cumulative and adds up over time. Do not ever use tanning beds. The risk is not worth your life!

“The tanning bed lamps will deliver extraordinarily high levels of UVA radiation and… They (also) give you high levels of UVB – it’s the equivalent of being high noon at the equator, but then on top of that, they give you 15x as much UVA radiation as can be experienced anywhere on the surface of the planet earth… This odd blend of UV radiation, basically high UVB and super physiological levels of UVA might be inducing these one-off mutations” Hunter Shain PhD (UCSF) Northwest Melanoma Symposium: Science to Survivorship- Seattle, WA 05.02.26

3. Get checked yearly by a board-certified dermatologist.

This one saves lives. Full stop and period.
(Tip: Do your own quick, routine, monthly skin checks, noticing any changes, as you can catch something early too.)

Why I Keep Sharing My Story

Every May, during Melanoma Awareness Month, and again in the fall during the Seattle Miles For Melanoma 5k event, I share these same three reminders.

Not because they’re new.
But because they’re easy to ignore.

And every year, someone reaches out to tell me they scheduled a skin check because of something I posted… and found something that needed attention.

Sometimes it’s precancerous.
Sometimes it’s more serious.

But every single time, it was caught earlier than it would have been otherwise and that’s why this matters.

And that’s why I keep sharing.

What Seventeen TV Seasons Looks Like

Seventeen years later, my storyline includes:

50+ biopsies

19 PET scans

6 CT scans

4 Brain MRIs

4 Mohs procedures to remove basal or squamous cell carcinomas on my

face that temporarily left me looking like something out of a boxing match.

In the end, I am left with one lasting side effect: Stage 2 lymphedema in my left leg. But even that has a hopeful chapter.

Thanks to another episode I saw on Grey’s Anatomy back in 2012 and then the actual advancements in microsurgery that I learned about at a Melanoma Research Foundation sponsored, Northwest Melanoma Symposium at Fred Hutchinson Research Center in Seattle in May of 2023, I was able to receive a type of lymph node bypass procedure (LVA surgery) in 2024— and it’s made a significant improvement in my lymphedema and meaningful difference in my quality of life.

Progress isn’t just something we talk about. It’s something I’m living.

I carry scars — visible and invisible. But I also carry something else: perspective.

I’ve seen firsthand how far we’ve come in melanoma treatment. And thanks to the Melanoma Research Foundation and my amazing team of doctors in Seattle, I’ve benefited from it. And I’ve watched awareness, simple awareness, change outcomes for people I care about.

If You Take Anything From This…

It’s that you don’t need to go through what I did to learn that:

TV doctors might not be real — but the diagnoses, treatments, and hope absolutely are.

You do have control — over your doctors, your treatment, and your mindset.

Protect of your skin by: Wearing sunscreen daily, avoiding burns, tanning beds and overexposure to the sun and making the yearly board-certified dermatologist appointment

Because the best melanoma story…is the one that never has to be told.

Still Here. Still Hopeful.

My journey may have started like a TV drama in 2009, but today, we are getting closer to a world where Melanoma doesn’t have to end anyone’s story too soon.

Seventeen years later, I’m still here. Still hopeful. Still advocating. And still wearing sunscreen.

Thank you!” – Keri

Instagram & Threads: @kjschloredt
Facebook: Keri Schloredt
LinkedIn: Keri Schloredt
TikTok: @Keri_Kan

Jakob loved pizza, pasta, burgers, video games, movies, sports, animals (more than people if I’m being honest) and had a life long love of Super Heros. Jakob was in his 4th year at Georgia State University, studying Film and Media when he was diagnosed with Melanoma at age 21. It presented one evening, alone in his dorm room, as not being able to move his arm, then leg, then a face droop, a CT scan showed a brain bleed. Later that night he would undergo emergency brain surgery and biopsies from his brain and scalp, these showed stage 4 Metastatic Melanoma. After that surgery, I promised him I was going to fight this fight with him every single step of the way and we all assured him he was not alone. After Jakobs brain surgery he went to Shepherd Center for 6 weeks to undergo intense Rehab to regain leg and arm function back as the brain mets left him with left sided hemiparesis. We witnessed many amazing things while he was at Shepherd Center but his strength and resilience were the most amazing of all. There were many times when the therapists would ask him if he wanted to stop or keep going and he would always choose to continue on. Once he had the strength to walk again he was ready to start immunotherapy in March of 2023 every 3 weeks. We were so hopeful and side effects were very minimal. Wednesdays were his infusion days but they were also Comic Book New release day, so on these days we would eat lunch and pick up several new Comic Books. This was truly the highlight of his week since his world was turned upside down and made infusion days a little bit more tolerable. In May of 2024, his routine 3 month CT Scan showed mets to his bone, liver and lungs, we would have to stop immunotherapy but could move onto Targeted Meds. These meds were not kind to his body, he encountered several severe side effects from these meds. December of 2024 he started having random vomiting episodes. After several phone calls and ER visits it was found Jakob had Hydrocephalus, fluid on the brain, and days later, Leptomengeal Disease, a rare and severe complication of advanced Melanoma. Only affecting about 5-8% of Metastatic Melanoma patients we would learn. The cancer had gone to his cerebral spinal fluid and the membranes surrounding his brain. Jakob died January 16th, 2025 while in the hospital fighting an unfair fight at 23 years old. Jakob never believed he was as sick as he was-at least he never shared or showed that with us. So, while Melanoma may have taken our son, it has not taken us and as I promised him in the hospital in January 2023, I am continuing this fight every single step. We will not stop fighting for better early detection guidelines, more awareness and ultimately a Cure. We will continue to use our voice for all of the fighters, the caregivers, the survivors and the dear ones we all have lost and especially for our forever Super Hero, Jakob.

My melanoma started as a mole on my thigh. At the time, I didn’t fully understand how serious it was. Like many people, I had used tanning beds, spent years in the sun, and never thought skin cancer would happen to me—until it did.

Years later, my melanoma came back—and this time, it had spread to my lymph nodes. That’s when everything changed.

What followed wasn’t just treatment—it was a fight. I went through multiple immunotherapy treatments and targeted therapy. I experienced severe side effects, hospitalizations, and surgeries. There were moments where my body didn’t feel like my own anymore.

Even now, after reaching one year with no evidence of disease, the journey hasn’t simply ended. I live with long-term side effects, ongoing scans, and the emotional weight that comes with knowing how quickly things can change.

Melanoma doesn’t just affect your skin. It affects your entire life.

What’s even harder is knowing that my melanoma may have been caught earlier—that things could have been different.

That’s why early detection is everything.

A simple skin check—something so small—can be the difference between a minor procedure and a life-threatening diagnosis.

Today, I use my voice to raise awareness because I don’t want anyone else to go through what I’ve been through.

If there’s one thing I want people to take from my story, it’s this:

Please don’t wait.
Check your skin.
See a  Board Certified dermatologist.

Early detection can save your life.

#GetNaked and get checked!

“In 2009, I was diagnosed with Stage IV melanoma—at a time when there were little to no effective treatment options. It was a moment that changed everything. But through a clinical trial, I was given a second chance at life—one that I have never taken for granted. 

That experience became my “why.” 

In 2013, I had the privilege of helping launch the DC Run/Walk with the Melanoma Research Foundation (MRF), turning my personal journey into a mission to give back and create hope for others facing this disease. What started as survival quickly became advocacy. 

My commitment to MRF deepened over the years, including serving on the Board of Directors for 13 years as both Vice Chair and Secretary. During that time, I worked alongside an incredible group of leaders dedicated to advancing research, supporting patients, and expanding the organization’s impact. 

MRF has been more than an organization to me—it has been a lifeline. It connected me with leading doctors, fellow patients, and caregivers, creating a powerful network of support, knowledge, and compassion. This community has truly become a second family. 

As MRF celebrates its 30th anniversary, I am proud to stand alongside so many others who are committed to continuing the mission first envisioned by Diane Ashby and her husband, Danny—to drive research forward and bring hope to every melanoma patient. 

Because of MRF, and the progress we’ve made together, survival is no longer a long shot—it’s a reality worth fighting for.”

“After 16 years, why do we stay so committed to the Melanoma Research Foundation? 

The answer is simple: we are carrying the torch my husband, Steve, lit in 1998. 

After his first diagnosis, Steve didn’t just fight for his own life; he fought for the melanoma community. He never asked, “Why me?” Instead, he’d say, “Why not me? No one deserves this.” 

Following grueling treatments, Steve’s spirit remained unbroken; his daily walks turned into small jogs, and he eventually completed the NYC Marathon, coining the term “Miles for Melanoma.” 

He believed deeply in the MRF’s power to educate and find a cure. 

We lost Steve in 2010 after a 12-year battle that I never thought he would lose. 

Today, my children and I share his passion for the MRF’s mission. We support this organization to ensure Steve’s dedication lives on, and we hope that one day, no other family will have to endure the heartbreak of this loss.”

“Eighteen years ago, I held my dad’s hand as he took his last breath. That day, in the early morning hours of August 7, surrounded by the people he loved most, he slipped away. 

He fought a short but valiant battle against, what we came to know in the community as, “The Beast.” It had only been four months since his melanoma diagnosis, but by that time the cancer had shown up all over in various internal metastases. 

We frantically scanned and scrolled through the pages of MPIP, the Melanoma Patient Information Pages, an early resource of the MRF, to find doctors, hospitals, treatments, anything that would help. We found guidance on those pages. We found empathy. We found a community that understood what we were fighting. 

After his passing, I once again looked to the MRF for a way to honor my father, remember him, keep him ever present in our lives, and once again the MRF did not let me down. 

For the past 17 years my family and I come together to plan, execute, and participate in the New Jersey Miles for Melanoma 5k. We dedicate our time and our hearts to an organization that we have seen transform the landscape of melanoma awareness and available treatments. 

Every year when I look at the funds the New Jersey community has raised, each dollar is a tribute to my father. Each dollar is a tribute to the people we have loved, lost, and who are still fighting this battle. Each dollar has given the MRF the ability to fund lifesaving treatments. Each dollar makes me want to work harder and press on for longer until we find a cure. 

This year, as the MRF celebrates its 30th anniversary and the New Jersey Miles for Melanoma 5k celebrates its 20th, I am proud to have shared in a small portion of their story and I am proud to continue to support the MRF and the work they do.”

“I’ve spent most of my adult life on the water. As a superyacht captain, and more recently as a face you might recognize from Bravo’s Below Deck Down Under, the sun has been my constant companion. The saltwater, the open sky, the deck beneath my feet: it’s the world I chose, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

But that world comes at a cost I didn’t fully understand until it was almost too late. 

Growing up in Australia, you’d think sun safety would’ve been drummed into me. And sure, you hear the warnings. You know the risks in the abstract. But when you’re working outdoors twelve to fourteen hours a day, year after year, sunscreen starts to feel like something you put on before a beach holiday, not something that could one day stand between you and a cancer diagnosis. 

I was wrong about that. Dead, wrong. 

I’ll be honest, I’m not the type to rush to the doctor. I suspect a lot of men reading this know exactly what I mean. You notice something, you tell yourself it’s probably nothing, you keep moving. Life is busy. The boat doesn’t wait. 

It was something small that finally made me pay attention. A spot. One of those things you’ve almost stopped seeing because it’s just been there, part of the landscape of your own skin. But someone close to me looked at it and said the words I’d been unconsciously avoiding: “You should get that checked.” 

So, I did. 

My dermatologist confirmed what I’d been quietly hoping wasn’t true. Melanoma. The word landed with a weight I wasn’t prepared for, even though some part of me had started to suspect. I remember sitting there, running through the math in my head: the years at sea, the accumulated hours in direct sunlight and all those days I’d told myself I was too busy to reapply. It all crystallized in that single moment. 

My melanoma was caught at a stage where treatment was possible. I want to be clear about something: I was lucky. Not because the diagnosis wasn’t serious, melanoma moves fast, and I’ve since heard stories that remind me exactly how serious it can be, but because I caught it in time. That is why it’s so imperative to get regular skin checks not only when you suspect a suspicious mole, but annually.  

What followed was a series of procedures to remove the melanoma and assess how far it had spread. I won’t pretend it was easy. There’s something uniquely humbling about sitting in a medical office, waiting for results, understanding for the first time that your body has been fighting something without your knowledge. You feel powerless in a way that’s hard to describe if you haven’t been there. 

But I also felt something else: gratitude. Every step of the process, every appointment, every follow-up and every clear scan reinforced the same truth. Early detection is everything! If I had waited another year or two, the outcome could have looked very different. 

I can’t go back and undo the years of sun exposure. None of us can. But I can talk about it loudly, publicly and without embarrassment because I know how many people, especially men, are sitting right now with a spot they’ve been meaning to get looked at and haven’t. 

Melanoma is the most common cancer in Australia and is the deadliest form of skin cancer, the most common cancer in the United States, and it’s entirely too common among people who live and work the way I do. The Melanoma Research Foundation’s annual melanoma awareness month #GetNaked campaign asks something simple and radical at the same time: look at your skin. Take off your shirt. Stand in front of a mirror. Book a skin check. Let a professional look at what you might be too close to see clearly. It’s not vain. It’s not excessive. It’s the kind of thing that saves your life. 

I know, because it saved mine. 

#GetNaked…It Saved My Life”

The MRF’s 15^th Annual 2026 Eyes on a Cure Ocular Melanoma Patient & Caregiver Symposium brought together more than 75 patients, caregivers and clinicians at Bascom Palmer Eye Institute (BPEI) and Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center in Miami, FL for a weekend of education, connection and community. 

The weekend began Friday evening with a welcome dinner at PRIMOS Restaurant, where the energy in the room was palpable. Attendees laughed, shared stories and connected so deeply that the night stretched well past 10:30pm. It was a powerful reminder of what this community means to one another. 

Throughout the day, attendees also had the opportunity to step away from the main sessions and join smaller open discussion groups facilitated by oncology social workers, offering a more intimate space for questions, reflection and peer connection. 

The day closed with debrief sessions, where attendees gathered in smaller breakout groups by primary disease, metastatic disease and caregivers, each facilitated by members of the MRF team and social workers from BPEI and Sylvester. 

A clear theme resonated throughout the entire weekend…hope. It came up again and again, in the sessions, in the hallways and at the dinner table, and nowhere was it more present than in Sunday’s session with Jon Davis, a retired Air Force pilot, engineer and 12.5-year ocular melanoma patient with eight years of metastatic disease. 

Sunday’s programming closed with a provider panel featuring Dr. Basil Williams, Medical Director, Ocular Oncology Service and Associate Professor of Ophthalmology, Bascom Palmer Eye Institute, alongside MRF’s Miriam Kadosh and Caroline Glavin, focused on how to bring more clinicians and advocates into the ocular melanoma space and the concrete ways providers can better support this community. It was a fitting and forward-looking note to end on. 

After a grab-and-go lunch, the group headed to loanDepot Park to cheer on the Miami Marlins, who delivered a win to cap off the weekend. A full recording of the symposium sessions will be available on YouTube soon, so stay tuned.

“In 2012, I was diagnosed with desmoplastic melanoma on the mucosal membrane of a nerve in my left mandible. I underwent a free-flap surgery that involved removing my left mandible and reconstructing it using my left fibula. This was a 10-hour surgery followed by a seven-day hospital stay. After surgery, I completed 30 radiation treatments. 

Over the next seven years, I underwent 15 additional surgeries. While these procedures were reconstructive, the radiation significantly limited how much could safely be done at one time. I have been NED since my initial surgery. After completing semi-annual scans for the first five years, I now continue with annual scans. 

Over the past 12 years, our Life Is Sweet team has raised more than $60,000 for Miles for Melanoma. My family and I work year-round to raise funds and educate others about melanoma. We create fabric bags and marker/colored-pencil holders that we sell at craft fairs. Each item includes a tag that shares a brief summary of my story, and we display our Miles for Melanoma sign at every event. Nearly every time, people stop to share how melanoma has affected them or someone they love. 

Raising money for melanoma research is deeply important to me. When I was diagnosed, there were only two medications available to treat melanoma, and outcomes were often poor. Today, there are countless treatment options and combinations. A close friend of mine—one of the only other people I know with desmoplastic melanoma—is alive today because of TIL therapy. After many unsuccessful treatments, TIL was her last option. 

Multiple times each year, friends reach out to me seeking guidance for a loved one newly diagnosed with melanoma. Some have thankfully survived, while others have not—often because the cancer was caught too late. These experiences continue to reinforce why advocacy, education and research matter so much to me. 

I raise money to help find a cure and give others a fighting chance until a cure is found.”