Jul 28, 2015 3 min read

It can happen to you. Odds are it will. There I was, sitting in the dermatologist’s office getting my annual skin check. Being a fair-skinned blonde, I’ve gotten a yearly checkup for decades to make sure there’s nothing dangerous growing on my dermis.

I’ve had all sorts of funny-shaped moles removed over the years. Fortunately, all of the lesions were benign. Since I’m pretty vigilant about sunscreen and preventive screenings, I always figured odds were in my favor and maybe somehow my body fought off the cumulative effect of years in the sun.

I was wrong.

My dermatologist carefully examined every inch of my skin for signs moles changed size or color. I try to keep an eye on them myself, but that’s pretty tough to do when they’re on your back. After a childhood spent at the swimming pool and beach plus five years of living in Florida, my back is filled with polka dots.

I thought I was in the clear this time. When the doctor noticed a red, inflamed patch of skin right between my shoulder blades, I was shocked. The good news is it’s basal cell carcinoma, which usually doesn’t spread to other parts of the body and is easily removed. Basal cell carcinoma is the most common form of skin cancer, with more than 2.8 million cases diagnosed annually in the United States. Melanoma is the most deadly form of skin cancer, and one in 50 of us will be diagnosed in our lifetimes. The bad news is the number of melanoma cases continues to rise.

When I was a kid, the only people who wore sunscreen were the ultra-cool lifeguards, and Mom got us to wear white zinc oxide on our noses so we could look like them. The rest of our bodies went unprotected for years. I grew up back in the day when we “laid out” in the sun and lubed up with baby oil hoping to get that “Bain de Soleil St. Tropez” tan. What were we thinking? Somewhere along the line, I wised up and started coating myself with SPF 50 and donning a big, floppy hat. I recently bought a pair of those UV-protectant arm sleeves you see the professional golfers wearing. They’re actually cool and comfortable, and also extremely uncool looking.

Today, if I want that St. Tropez tan, I get it in a can. Spray tans and self-tanners no longer turn us orange and are easy to apply. One dermatologist assured they are safe and better than risking exposure to UV rays. I’m certain there’ll be some study soon warning us self-tanners cause cancer. Until then, I’ll risk it and keep buying bigger and floppier hats to protect against the sun.

Besides, they hide my wrinkles.

Kristin Emery can be reached at kristinemery1@yahoo.com.