The Warmth of the Sun
“Do you think there is anywhere,
in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you?”
I put my book down, take my sunglasses off, close my eyes, and turn my face to the sun. I hear the kids in the playground, a gaggle of 10-year-old girls chatting about friendships and bullies. I hear birds - the hummingbird at the feeder by my head, the distant call of a flicker, and seagulls squawking overhead as they chase after an eagle. The warmth the sun feels wonderful and I realize it has been almost 10 years since I have intentionally welcomed the sun on my face.
Blond and light-skinned I have always been prone to sunburns but that never stopped me from sunbathing during my younger years. I spent summers in cut-off shorts and a bikini top. Along with my girlfriends, I would swim out to the raft in the lake, slather myself with baby oil, and bake in the sun for hours. I remember a grade 11 outdoor education trip, a biking weekend from the suburbs of Montreal to Upper Canada Village in Morrisburg, Ontario. I wore a halter top and my faithful cut-off shorts. At the end of the first day of biking my shoulders were covered with blisters. I shudder now to think of the long-lasting damage I did to my skin almost 45 years ago.
All my life I have had a nasty looking mole on my upper left arm. People would ask if I had ever had it checked out. And I had. I had shown it to a doctor years ago who informed me it wasn’t atypical and nothing to worry about.
In 2012 I went on a 6-week trip to Asia, I spent the first three weeks travelling through Thailand, and then I met my girls in Bali. The sun was hot and I was religious about applying sunscreen. I came home tanned and relaxed, confident that I had been mindful of taking care of my skin.
But when I got home, the mole on my arm looked different, it was darker and I was convinced it had grown. I went to my doctor. She examined the mole and told me I had nothing to be concerned about, and then she reluctantly referred me to a dermatologist when I insisted. The dermatologist also wasn’t concerned. But I knew, in my gut, that there was something wrong with this mole. As women, we know to trust our instincts and it is so frustrating when our worries are dismissed, especially by medical professionals. I’m sure some of you can share similar stories of niggling concerns that weren’t taken seriously. Just as I was about to walk out of the dermatologist’s office she said, look, if you are really worried, I can remove it and send it off for a biopsy. I didn’t relish her cutting into my skin and walking away with stitches but I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I went home, told my husband, and totally put it out of my mind - after all, the dermatologist had told me I had nothing to worry about.
Ten days later the dermatologist called and said she wanted to see me about the results, and could I bring my husband along? That says it all, doesn’t it? Melanoma. No one in my family has ever had cancer and I was shocked. She said she had to take another sample for biopsy, cutting wider and deeper to ensure she got it all. The second time around the news was more positive, she had removed all the cancerous cells. But then I knew that I was prone to melanoma. Every year I am filled with dread as I head back to the dermatologist so she can scan my skin for anything that looks suspicious. The dread is not so much for what she might find but rather that she might miss something because, after all, she never believed there was anything to be concerned about with the mole I had removed!
The scar on my arm is a constant reminder that I should be careful of the sun. And I am. I always wear sunscreen. I wear hats. I almost always wear long sleeves. For years I was scared to even go out in the sun. I would go for walks early or late in the day, avoiding the midday heat. I would always look for shady spots to sit when we went on vacation or to visit friends. At home, I could always be found hiding under the sun umbrella.
This pandemic winter I have been eagerly awaiting warmer days. Finally this week, despite an almost constant breeze off the ocean, the weather has been glorious. And today, after so many months stuck inside because of the weather and this pandemic, all I want to do is lift my face to the sun and feel alive. I’m not reckless. I use a 30 SPF moisturizer and I have a 50 SPF BB cream on top of that. I spray my exposed skin 2-3 times a day. I wear long sleeved, soft linen or cotton shirts and dresses to protect me from the sun. I always carry sunscreen with me. I feel safe - for the most part. But frankly, at this moment, I don’t really care. I just want to life my face and feel the warmth of the sun.
So why am I making this my blog post this week? I guess I want to remind myself of two things as I journey north, and I am thinking that this is a reminder you may also appreciate. One, always trust your instincts. When I think back, I don’t think my instincts ever steered me wrong. I know now I should have insisted many years ago to have that mole removed. And two, don’t let fear take over your life. Lift your face and enjoy the warmth of the sun.