Better Safe Than Sorry

My dad has skin cancer.

Over the past 10+ years, he’s had basal cell cancer, squamous cell cancer, and melanoma; the trifecta of skin cancer.

The last thing he’d ever want is your sympathies, so stop it.

He’s a ginger who’s spent nearly every un-working hour outside doing things like building massive projects like the gazebo over the lake where I was married. He’s a fair-skinned child of the 50′s who plays at least 4 rounds of golf a week.

His face, arms, back, and shoulders have been carved up removing the cancers, but with all of the other sunspots and freckles, it’s hard to see the scars.

My responsibility as a fair-skinned, spotted Anglo whose father has had all three types of skin cancer is to have my skin checked by a dermatologist at least once a year.

My daughters have the fair, freckled, spotted skin passed on from me and Patrick. Claire has been to a dermatologist twice in her young 6 years for unusual-looking moles. Both were “fine,” but we have to keep an eye on the moles and be diligent about applying sunscreen on her especially.

Better safe than sorry.

Skin cancer is exactly by what that idiom is defined.

I may have my own downfalls and setbacks and negative qualities, but I don’t mess around with getting skin checked.

I was that 16-year-old lifeguard laying out at the pool getting sunburns to “get a good base tan.”

There’s no such thing as a good tan. At all. Never.

That one bad sunburn I got on my legs when I was 16, the one that was so bad that I still remember the pain, doubles the chances that I’ll have melanoma. There are countless other sunburns I’ve had in the last 35 years that I don’t remember, but every one of those doubles my chances for melanoma.

It’s crazy-pants dangerous.

Please watch this video produced in Canada by the David Cornfield Melanoma Fund. It’s important.

Then promise me you’ll get your skin checked.

Tagged as: dad, skin cancer, video