Paitent Stories

Karie Schultz

The Call That Changed Everything

If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be writing about my experience with skin cancer, I probably would have laughed. Not because it’s funny—but because I genuinely believed it would never happen to me. 

It started with a mole. My GP noticed it during a routine check and referred me to a dermatologist. Honestly, I wasn’t concerned at all. In fact, I was annoyed. Life was busy, work was demanding, and the last thing I wanted was another appointment taking up my time. I even rescheduled the first visit—because I truly didn’t think it was urgent. 

Eventually, the day came. I went in, expecting it to be quick and uneventful. The dermatologist took one look at the mole and decided to biopsy it. That was on a Monday. I walked out and didn’t give it much more thought. 

Friday morning came. I was at work early—like I said, I was busy. Then my phone rang. It was the call. “You have melanoma.” 

My heart dropped. A lump formed in my throat. I froze. This stuff doesn’t happen to me. But it was happening. I was told I’d need surgery to remove it and determine how deep it had gone. It was scheduled for December 20th—right in the middle of my Christmas plans. 

The melanoma was on my mid-calf. Suddenly, my holidays weren’t about celebration—they were about healing. The surgery left me with 16 stitches and strict orders to rest. For the next 24 days, I was on the couch. Just me and my thoughts. And trust me, there were a lot of them. 

Sadness. Anger. Fear. Frustration. Regret. 

I had been a sun worshipper. I loved the bronzed glow, that tanned “healthy” look. I had barely ever worn sunscreen—maybe five times in my entire life. I worked as a lifeguard at an outdoor pool through my teen years. Tanning beds? Oh yes, they were part of my routine. I thought I was invincible. 

But this diagnosis—this scar on my leg—was my wake-up call. 

In the weeks that followed, I went from thinking “This can’t happen to me,” to painfully realizing, “This is happening because my past sun habits put me at greater risk.” And that’s a hard truth to face. 

Fast forward to today—2.5 years later. I’ve had countless biopsies, and the emotional rollercoaster hasn’t stopped. Some days, I still feel scared of the sun. I struggle to enjoy being outside like I used to. I even catch myself thinking, “Screw it. I just want a tan again.” 

But then I remember the call. The scar. The fear. And I fight those thoughts. 

Now, I’m a huge advocate for sun safety and regular skin checks. I share my story often—not for pity, but to educate. If just one person hears my story and gets a mole checked, it’s worth it. And nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than when someone says, “I got something looked at because of you.” 

That’s why I keep telling this story. Because it can happen to you. And you have the power to catch it early—or better yet, prevent it. 

 Karie  

Strathmore, Alberta