We're still basking in the hot sun, bronzing our bodies in tanning beds, and playing outdoors without slathering on the sunscreen. What will it take, I wonder, for our society to catch on, to take real steps toward preventing skin cancer?

It seems education isn't enough. Most of us know by now all it takes is one bad sunburn to increase our risk of skin cancer, yet we continue to collect burn after burn after burn. Perhaps like all habit-forming behaviors -- think smoking -- it takes something tragic in our lives to inspire change. When someone we know gets lung cancer after a lifetime of smoking or someone we know develops melanoma after years of sunbathing, maybe we get the hint. Maybe

Now, I know you don't personally know this young woman -- she calls herself Miss Melanoma -- but I suggest you read her story. And I recommend you take what happened to her -- she lost part of her foot to melanoma and is currently battling a spread of the disease -- and allow it to really sink in, allow it to motivate you to take cover from the sun, before something like this happens to you. Because it can.

The story I am about to tell you is horrific and gathered from various news accounts of the event that have been published over the months since it happened.

Last March, six healthy young men volunteered at Northwick Park Hospital, in London as participants in a clinical trial for a drug called TGN1412, designed to treat leukemia, autoimmune and inflammatory diseases. According to the men, they were told by doctors there would be no serious short-term or long-term side effects. They were each paid £2,000. Within hours, the worst that could happen did, and the men were plunged into a nightmare beyond anything they could have imagined.

In 2005, Sally, 25, was planning her wedding. At the same time, she was diagnosed with bone cancer, which required a leg amputation. Before cancer, she had a life all planned, and was standing in front of it with happy expectations. Cancer changed the future and she knew that life would never be the same. Sally blogs Out on a limb about the challenges she faces learning to walk using an artificial limb. She recounts the moments of "balancing precariously on a stubbornly awkward artificial limb" during a night out on the town with friends. She shares what it feels like to have insensitive people make remarks about her artificial leg. She takes the reader with her as she tries to ride her bicycle again. Sally is charming and sweet, and you may find yourself cheering her on and holding your breath as I did, while she learns to navigate through her new life after the loss of her leg to cancer.