It feels like summer here in Florida. Our temps topped 86 degrees last week and this kind of heat prompts my little boys to request their favorite summertime activity: swimming.

My kids don't quite understand that the temperature outside is not the same as the temperature of unheated water. And so as soon as warm weather arrives, they dash for their suits and insist we make a trip to the neighborhood pool. I oblige, convinced they'll want to head home once they submerge their piggy toes in pure ice.

But somehow, the temperature doesn't register. They plunge right in, dunk their heads and kick and flop and float. They are happy as clams, quivering lips and all. I am happy too as I watch their joyous moments from the privacy of my lounge chair, tucked away in the shade that borders my kids' perfect playland.

Thanks to chemo, I am the mommy who hides in the shadows during any sunny event. It's been two whole years since my last dose of toxic drugs, but something about the sun and the heat and the residual effects of my infused poison causes my skin to produce red, itchy, unsightly bumps. It happened last year and already this year and I'm wondering now if this will be a life-long nuisance, if I will be seeking shade for the rest of my years.

It's all OK really. Secluding myself from the sun's rays is a pretty healthy venture. And I'm not a real pool enthusiast. Any my boys are old enough to swim independently. And it's peaceful in the shade. So I'm not bitter about this unexpected side effect of chemo -- it's called UV recall -- and I'm not complaining. I'm merely marveling at the power of the drugs that hopefully killed all the cancer in my body, the drugs that seem to creep back year after year, perhaps reminding me that in the whole scheme of things, red, itchy, unsightly bumps are not such a bad life condition.

I confess. I was once a sun worshiper. I grew up in Ohio where a really sunny day was rare -- so on the occasion when the sun was bright and hot, I was in my back yard or at a swimming pool or at a lake soaking up the warmth and comfort of the rays that mostly burned my skin but gave me a glow that eventually turned the slightest shade of tan and made me feel healthy. It's ironic really -- that I felt healthy when the act of sunbathing is so completely damaging. And I knew this at the time and for the many years that followed -- and I still basked in the sun and vacationed in Florida and sometimes actually drove in the direction of the sun on a overcast day, in search of a tan that was never fully achieved because my skin is pale and fair and was never meant for any amount of sun exposure.