Bob Sonntag says, "I think I'm still here to spread the word. I really want to get the message out to people to protect themselves, wear hats, wear sunscreen, limit their exposure." Many people over age 40 can identify with his experience. "When I was growing up," he says, "parents didn't know about the dangers of getting too much sun. We thought that being tan was a sign of good health. We didn't have video games and such, so I played outside my whole life; then I worked construction. Combine that with my German ancestry and fair coloring, and it was almost inevitable that I would get skin cancer."
That he would still be here to talk about his experience was not inevitable. In fact, in June 2006, Bob said he learned that "I probably wouldn't make it to Thanksgiving." So, he informed his employer of the diagnosis. "I work for the most incredible company," he says. "When I told them, they said, 'This is no way to spend the last few months of your life. Go enjoy life.' They kept paying me; they took care of everything." Bob and his wife, Nancy, embarked on a three-month "Farewell Tour," visiting family and friends.
"A funny thing happened on the way to dying," Bob says. "I was getting better." After his November 2006 check-up — about the time of his potential Thanksgiving check-out — Bob told his company he'd like to return to work part-time. "It will be good for me mentally and physically," he explained to them, "better than just waiting around for the Grim Reaper."
His company gave him the opportunity to move back to Indiana and moved him and his family to its Indiana headquarters. They transferred him to a less stressful job that requires less travel. Now he is working four days a week, with Fridays off for chemotherapy.
Bob's first encounter with skin cancer was in 1997, when he was working in Mexico. The basal cell carcinoma on his left temple was about the size of a quarter. After it was removed, he dutifully returned for check-ups every six months. During the next seven years, Bob had 15 or 16 skin cancer surgeries. Then, in early 2005, the basal cell carcinoma returned to his left temple. When that was all removed, he recalls, "I ended up with a scar about the size of an orange."
The plastic surgeon he consulted gave him a choice of three parts of his body from which skin could be harvested to repair the scar. Bob decided that skin from his scalp would be the ideal match. To prepare for that, the surgeon shaved his head and took the graft from his scalp. During the follow-up exam, the plastic surgeon noticed a dark spot on the crown of Bob's head about the size of a pencil eraser. Bob was advised to see a dermatologist as soon as possible. The "spot" was diagnosed as Stage II melanoma on August 31, 2005. That finding led to a sentinel node biopsy, which showed that the cancer cells were draining into four lymph nodes. That, in turn, led to a recommendation for removal of the four nodes. A biopsy of the nodes revealed cancer in one of them. With this finding, Bob's cancer was reclassified Stage III melanoma.
An oncologist in the Twin Cities recommended a standard treatment regimen using high-dose interferon. Bob and his wife found the side effects and survival rate were "just really scary." Nancy told him in the parking lot of the oncology office in the Twin Cities, "We need a second opinion."
For the second opinion, Nancy called the Mayo Clinic, where they were assigned to meet with Dr. Svetomir Markovic. "Some people call it dumb luck that we got to see him, but we call it divine intervention," Bob says. After meeting with Dr. Markovic and his team, "Nancy and I were persuaded to trust our lives and our health to Mayo Clinic," where an ENT [ear, nose, and throat] surgeon performed a right neck resection in November 2005 and found yet another cancerous lymph node in the shoulder area. During a surgery follow-up, "I was declared clean! We were high-fivin', chest-bumpin', and champagne-poppin'," Bob jokes. "I thought I had dodged a major bullet."
Of his three-month check-up in March 2006, Bob recalls, "When the head oncologist and the nurse walked in the room, I knew it was not good news." When he and Nancy learned that the cancer had metastasized to his liver, kidneys, lungs, and bones, "Obviously, we were in shock," he says. Bob was then classified as a Stage IV melanoma patient.
After two cycles of oral chemotherapy in April and May, "My June 2006 PET scan looked like I had swallowed a Christmas tree with about 60 or 70 tumors in my torso," he says. "I was glowing white all over. You're never prepared for that kind of shock. I knew melanoma was serious but I just didn't think that it was going to kill me. The team at Mayo was just as surprised. They said that they had to make sure they had the right scan because of the rapid progression." Bob continues, "This is somewhat the nature of melanoma. It is an insidious and tricky disease. That's what makes it so hard to treat," Bob says.
When he was interviewed for this story, Bob was on the 14th cycle of medication in a Phase 2 clinical trial for people with metastatic melanoma. In the study, researchers use two chemotherapy drugs with a drug that prevents the formation of new blood vessels that the cancer needs to grow. In June 2007, when only about nine tumors showed up on the CT scan, "The doctors told me, 'You are a walking miracle.'"
Bob has immense admiration for Dr. Markovic, and says, "With all his knowledge and wisdom, he truly has saved my life. I'm incredibly thankful."
Another contributor to his survival is no doubt his experience with going through other tough situations, such as playing football in college. The disease hit a man who "was in pretty good physical shape. I was a runner. I ate healthy. I knew what it was to be tired and not feeling well, but working through it. You might also say that I'm a stubbornly determined, hard-headed German."
"I have lots of goals. I really want to be around to see my stepdaughter, Ariel, graduate from college and my son Eric graduate from high school — both in May 2008. My son Tyler starts high school in fall 2007. I also want to enjoy the life I have left." One example of his determination to enjoy life took place on vacation in Northern California in July 2007. Bob and his wife Nancy made their first skydiving jump with Ariel. "I am grateful for the time I have and intend to enjoy every day I have," Bob says.
Bob acknowledges a great deal of "help from a tremendous support network" during his long struggle with cancer. He emphasizes faith, hope, and love: his religious faith, his hope that continued research will find a cure for melanoma, and the love of his family and friends.
"I have a partnership," he says. "Nancy has partnered with me through entire ordeal. She has been there every step of the way. She has raised thousands of dollars for cancer research. She's a pretty incredible human being."
So what advice does Bob have? He says, "It comes down to three things: