This legacy post has been given a facelift but content remains the same. I will be a broken record on this topic until forever and a day.
I’ve talked about my pursuit of a good facial sunscreen before (I’m liking it, btw!) and have mentioned here and there that my Mom received a (super early) Melanoma diagnosis.
Given today, specifically, is Melanoma Monday (first Monday in May), designated by the American Academy of Dermatology, I’m sharing my mom’s melanoma story to help raise awareness.
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Growing up in the 70s and early 80s, few people gave a damn about sunscreen and fewer people made their children wear it. Kids played outside not only more frequently than they do now, but more often (which, in itself, is not a bad thing). During her youth, she managed to get some fairly intense sunburns – to the point of agonizing sun poisoning. I even recall her telling a story about using baby oil while tanning; she burned, of course, and learned her lesson about that much, but still didn’t really employ sunscreen. As an adult, her skin would still burn when we’d spend any considerable amount of time outside, but I recall her being red for just a day or two, then peeling and having a decent tan. She thought, “Eh, no big deal. I’ve had worse.”