I'm sad, worried, and frustrated because of what happened to me at the beach this past weekend. I got burned. Really burned.I thought I did everything right. I applied sunscreen, even had my husband coat my back, shoulders, and hard-to-reach spots with the powerful lotion intended to block the sun's most damaging rays. I sat underneath an umbrella while watching my boys, their own pale bodies slathered in a baby sunblock potion, as they jumped, ran, and bounced in the waves. I reapplied my sunscreen after a short stint in the pool and a stroll on the sand left my skin feeling tender. Still, I sizzled. My back is red, the skin underneath my suit straps white as can be in contrast to the bright color it borders, My chest is red and sore and itchy with bumps.
I feel sick, like I've exponentially upped my risk for skin cancer. As a cancer survivor, I feel particularly vulnerable. I not only fear a return of breast cancer, you see. I fear other cancers too. My ultra white skin already puts me at risk for sun damage. My past forays into sunbathing don't help. What happened this weekend, I'm afraid, makes things worse.
Despite my attempts to do the right thing, I somehow fell prey to the sun. What shall I do now? I think there is only one solution: stay out of the sun, completely out of the sun. I do it at our neighborhood pool all the time. I sit on a lounge chair in the shade and watch my kids swim from afar. Why they don't burn with sunscreen like I just did, I'm not sure. I seek shady trees and shady building overhangs whenever I can. I love a cloudy day when the sun is in hiding and I don't have to fret about it so much.
I knew well before I arrived at the beach a few days ago that retreating from the sun was my best bet. But I wanted to splash and play with my kids and their cousins. I wanted to look at shells on the beach. I wanted to soak up the moments cancer has already taught me to cherish. I thought my plan would work -- the sunscreen, the umbrella, more sunscreen -- but somehow, I got burned. Really burned. And now I'm sad, worried, frustrated. And motivated to commit once again to staying out of the sun.
1. Jackie,
As someone who has been diagnosed twice with melanoma, I can understand your fear of the sun. However, I think that total avoidance of the sun is a little extreme.
I avoided the sun in the beginning, but as a mother of two children (age 3 and 6) it was unfair to keep them couped up in the house. So I've found ways to allow them to romp and play, and to protect myself in the process.
We all stay inside from 11am to 2 or 3pm. When we go to the pool, beach, or amusement parks we all have suncreen on, hats and sunglasses, and I carry an umbrella just in case I need shade and can't find it somewhere. I also wear sunprotective clothing.
After being so sun-phobic last year, dealing with my melanoma, many surgeries, and all the 'other' stuff (emotional and otherwise) that cancer patients deal with, I feel a great sense of accomplishment in running my first half marathon this past spring... OUTSIDE, ....in the sun.
I think there is a fine line we walk as we live our lives. How much do we need to change? What's safe? None of us will get out alive, that is the ONLY thing we know FOR SURE. Our experiences, our family, are all we really have to show for our time here. I, for one, want to make the most of it. There are so many things I want to see and do before I die. I don't want to come to the end of the road (whenever that may be) and think that life would have been more fun if only I'd left the house.
Posted at 4:05PM on Jul 20th 2007 by melissalittle