A Stage IV Melanoma Story of Resilience and Choosing Life Now
Maryanne's Story
Maryanne Oliver has learned, through profound loss and extraordinary survival, what it truly means to live in the present.
At 75, Mary‑Anne is married to the love of her life, Terry, with whom she shares a long and layered history. They met as teenagers, went on to raise children separately, and eventually found their way back to one another, finally marrying 39 years ago. “It was worth waiting for,” she says simply. Together, they now share life with their Amstaff, Zeba, and a determination to keep moving forward, even after years that have tested them deeply.
The past seven years have carried more grief than Maryanne ever imagined. She has lost both a daughter and a step‑daughter and even farewelled their beloved greyhound on the very day they sold their family home. Most recently, the loss of her daughter Cori in late October 2025 prompted a major life decision: to leave Queensland and relocate to Western Australia, closer to family. At the time of sharing her story, Maryanne and Terry were travelling across the country in their caravan, grieving, but also hopeful for a new chapter near their eldest daughter and grandchildren.
Through everything, Maryanne remains remarkably active and positive. She walks daily, practices Tai Chi, and prioritises movement and wellbeing wherever the road takes her. “I’m one of the lucky ones,” she says. That belief comes not from denial, but from perspective hard‑won through experience.
A Melanoma Diagnosis That Changed Everything
Mary‑Anne’s melanoma story began quietly in November 2022, when her left eye became swollen and intensely itchy. What initially seemed like a localised issue quickly escalated into specialist appointments, scans, and an MRI. On 15 December 2022, Mary‑Anne was diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic melanoma.
The MRI revealed a large melanoma attached to her eye muscle. Surgery was immediate, not to remove it, but to biopsy and confirm what was already feared. The tumour was inoperable. Further scans revealed that the melanoma had spread to her lungs, upper stomach, and back.
This diagnosis, while devastating, was not Mary‑Anne’s first encounter with melanoma. She had previously lived through two earlier melanomas on her left ear—one in 1998 and another in 2002, the latter classified as Clark Level IV. At that time, treatment options were limited. “You just had to hope,” she recalls.
Twenty years later, the disease had returned – aggressively.
“If my eye hadn’t come out of its socket,” Mary‑Anne says candidly, “I would have died within four months.”
Dealing with Melanoma Treatment, Reality and Hope
Maryanne remembers hearing only three words from her oncologist: “It’s incurable.” Without treatment, she was given four months to live. With treatment, perhaps six years.
She began immunotherapy the very next day, what she affectionately calls “the good stuff.” The combination treatment (Ipilimumab and Nivolumab) was intensive, delivered every three weeks, and carefully administered by vigilant oncology nurses. While Maryanne felt she coped well initially, her husband Terry remembers the toll it took more clearly, days of exhaustion and growing weakness.
After completing the maximum four combination treatments and one further dose, her body reached its limit. Severe complications followed. Maryanne became bedridden, lost her appetite, and was eventually hospitalised with critically low sodium levels. She was diagnosed with Addison’s disease, her adrenal glands had shut down as a result of the immunotherapy.
She spent nine days confined to her hospital room. For Easter that year, instead of chocolate, Maryanne was gifted a walker so she could finally return home.
Today, she lives with permanent adrenal insufficiency, managing it with daily hydrocortisone. Despite this, her body achieved something extraordinary.
In March 2023, scans revealed no evidence of cancer.
“My oncologist told me he didn’t expect me to survive,” she says. “When he said the cancer was gone, I was stunned. He told me my body reacted exactly as it should – and that not many do.”
Maryanne knows how rare her outcome is. She doesn’t take it lightly. “I am so very lucky,” she says. “And I live like it.”
Family, Support and Giving Back After Melanoma
Throughout her diagnosis and treatment, Maryanne never attended an appointment alone. Terry was beside her each time, helping her hear what illness and stress sometimes blocked. Her children responded with shock, but also clarity – melanoma was not unfamiliar territory for their family.
What surprised Maryanne most was her lack of fear around dying. Having already lost a child, death no longer held the same terror. Instead, she focused on living well, now.
That mindset led her to Melanoma Patients Australia. Wanting to give back after being so fortunate, Maryanne became an online supporter and volunteer, offering peer connection to others newly diagnosed. Through MPA, she formed meaningful friendships, spoke at a community melanoma walk, and joined monthly support lunches at the Beerwah Blue Hills Cancer Centre.
“These spaces let us be honest,” she explains. “To say how we’re really feeling.”
Living Well Beyond Melanoma
Melanoma has changed Maryanne’s outlook entirely—but in the most positive way.
“Do it now,” she says. “Don’t wait for the right time. There might not be one.”
She continues to live actively, travel, connect, and offer support to others. She believes deeply in reaching out, in simple conversations, and in the healing power of human connection—whether over coffee, the phone, or a shared laugh online.
“The treatments are improving all the time,” she says. “Not just for melanoma, but for so many cancers. That gives me hope.”
Maryanne’s story is one of loss and survival, grief and gratitude, science and spirit. By sharing it, she hopes others will feel less alone, more informed, and encouraged to ask for help when they need it.
Because sometimes, hope doesn’t arrive quietly—it survives.
Maryanne Oliver shared her story in May 2026. Melanoma Patients Australia thanks Maryanne and her family for the generosity and courage in sharing her story. We acknowledge both the complexity of melanoma and the strength of those who live beside it.
If this story has raised questions or you are seeking support, contact the National Melanoma Support Line on 1300 884 450.
