He was sixteen….a typical sixteen year old…into cars, girls, sports and “having the right look”; not necessarily in that order! 

A mole had appeared on his left shoulder and protruded from underneath his tank tops.  This being a “not so cool” look, we took him to a local dermatologist to have it removed.  Aesthetics only was the reason; definitely not because we had any concerns about “skin cancer”.  That never caused us a moment’s thought!  It was removed and the appropriate time passed for healing.  The obligatory pathology came back “OK” as per the doctor.  Not a mention that it was a “dysplastic nevi” and that we should keep an eye on the area.

Four years passed and the troublesome “mole” had grown back.  Billy had been in the hospital for a motorcycle accident where he had to have skin grafts on his ankle and during one of his “routine” check-ups with his primary care physician I asked “in passing”…. “… this mole has grown back, can we have a referral to a dermatologist (now being under a HMO system) to have it removed again? We were told “that it was not the kind we had to worry about…” No referral was given and not another thought was put into the scar like tissue- pink mole again growing on his shoulder. 

Billy, on his 21^st. birthday had briefly complained at his birthday dinner that he didn’t feel well and that his side was bothering him; all just in passing.  Shortly after this he took a motorcycle trip to San Diego to visit a friend and take a brief vacation from his Saab mechanics job. While down in San Diego, the “nothing to worry about mole” began to bleed.  He went to an out-patient clinic at our HMO and had it removed.  Pathology was done but this is where the nightmare begins.

Upon coming home from his brief vacation he found it difficult to breath at night and the pain in his side worsened.  His doctor’s visits concluded that he had “an infection in the lung area and was put on a six week course of antibiotics.  It continued to worsen and Billy, living out on his own now, shrugged it off until a large tumor appeared under his left arm.

I received a phone call from my son telling me that he was going in for surgery to remove a “lump” under his arm.  I asked to please have his doctor call me so I could get a little more information.  Since he was now “of age”, Billy had to give his doctor/surgeon the OK to talk with me. 

The call came in.  “Mrs. Graham, we believe your son has melanoma, skin cancer”. “OK…so you remove it right?”  “No big deal…it’s just skin cancer, right?, I said.  

“Mrs. Graham, you don’t understand, this is malignant melanoma and at best your son may have six months to live”.   My knees buckled.  I couldn’t be hearing this.  You don’t find out that your son is going to die in a phone call!   I remember hanging up and calling my husband, Dan at work and telling him to come right home.   Billy had cancer!  He was dying!

Before Billy went in for surgery the following day, we spoke with the doctor.  We were told that on further preparation for the surgery additional X-rays were taken and the doctor now new that the cancer had indeed spread to not only his lungs but also his liver and that at best; Billy may have 3-6 months to live.  Stage IV melanoma has no cure. 

The room spun around me…how can this be happening?  How!  Why wasn’t this found sooner?  What happened to the path report from San Diego? There were so many questions and all of them too late to be asked.  After a great deal of anguish the clinic doctor was finally tracked down and asked pertinent questions.  The answers given were not acceptable.  Information had “fallen through the cracks of the system” at the cost of my son’s life!  

Billy, being young just knew that he was going to be one of the less then 6% of those that went on to beat stage IV melanoma.  The thought of death was not allowed to enter into his mind.  All 21 year olds feel they are impervious to death and Billy was no exception. 

When Billy came home from his surgery (we moved him back home for his care) I can still see him on our couch.  I turned to him and said, “Billy, we are going to beat this disease” and he said, “I know we will, mom”.  I had made a promise to my son…a promise that I have to keep.  We were not able to “beat the disease” for Billy’s timing; but I still had/have a promise to keep.  There is nothing more tenacious than a mother’s promise to her son.  

Billy went on to be very strong in his battle against melanoma.  He went through several treatments available and some that “weren’t really available”.  He had a regression of the disease under the IL2 regime which gave him a wonderful summer with us playing baseball and soccer once again.  Then the insidious disease raised its ugly head again; this time with a vengeance.  Billy had lived 14 months with melanoma but lost his battle on March 2, 1994.  He was twenty-two years old.  Billy, when asked, said he did not fear death, as he knew he would go home to be with The Lord; however, he feared the pain.  I will not go into this private nightmare time we went through with our son at the end.  It is far too ugly to share; but I do want everyone to know that Billy remains my earthly hero for his incredible bravery during his last month on earth. He died surrounded by family and dear friends and believing until he drew his last breath…. “That we were going to beat this disease….”