Kristin Kaiser, Stage 0, “In Situ”

The day before my thirtieth birthday was supposed to feel like a doorway—one last glance back at my twenties, one deep breath before stepping forward. Instead, it became a moment frozen in fear.

It started as a freckle on my upper right thigh—one I’d probably looked at a hundred times without a second thought. When my dermatologist decided to biopsy it, I told myself it was just being careful. A few days later, I learned a new phrase that would change everything: melanoma in situ.

The next weeks were a blur of appointments and fear. I had a wide local excision to make sure every last abnormal cell was gone. When it was over, I had 18 stitches, 7 on the outside and 8 on the inside, and a long healing process ahead of me. Now, I carry a pretty scar, one I’ve come to see not as a flaw, but as proof that I faced something terrifying and came out the other side.

At the time of my diagnosis, I had a two-year-old little boy. In the quiet moments, my mind went to the darkest places. I was afraid I wouldn’t see him grow up, wouldn’t get to watch him become who he’s meant to be. That fear was heavy, and it was real.

Today, I’m almost two years out from that diagnosis. Every three months, I walk into the dermatologist’s office for a full skin check. I am on a first name basis with my dermatologist and all the nurses. Lol. I’ve had several more biopsies since then, each one reopening a small door of worry, but every single one has come back benign. I’ve learned to breathe through the waiting & to occupy my brain with other thoughts.

I’ve also changed the way I live. I protect my skin fiercely now: sunscreen, protective clothing, shade, awareness. I respect the sun in a way I never did before. And I’ll gladly take the little scars that biopsies leave over the alternative, every single time.

This experience didn’t end my life, it sharpened it. It reminded me how precious time is and how strong hope can be. There is hope after a scary diagnosis like this. You can still laugh, plan, dream, and live life to the fullest. Sometimes, that life just comes with a few scars—and a deeper appreciation for every day you’re given.

Kristin Kaiser, Stage 0 Melanoma Survivor
Date of Diagnosis: 08/15/2023
Sweeny, Texas