The prevailing wisdom is that if you avoid tanning beds, wear strong SPF, and reduce your exposure to the strongest rays of the sun, you reduce your chance of being diagnosed with skin cancer. But what if that advice came just a little too late?
I was a typical child of the 80s. I played outside all the time in the summer, swam probably five times a week, “layed out” with my friends hoping for that tan to make me look fabulous in time for the start of a new school year. I rarely put sunscreen on during my youth in Ohio. I think the only people who bought any sunscreen were the people going to Florida for Spring Break and even then, it was only maybe SPF 8.
In my late teens and early twenties, I moved to Miami, Florida for university. I spent countless hours outside, on the beach, hanging out with my friends. During the summer, I worked at an amusement park in Ohio – outside all day, every day. I actually used sunscreen then, but with 8-hour shifts, I didn’t reapply as often as I needed to make it actually effective.
But then, right around my 23rd birthday, I started worrying about wrinkles. I noticed a lot of my friends a few grades older than me that started looking, well, old. I suddenly became a convert to finding shade, wearing SPF everyday on my face, and protecting myself from the sun. I had been secretly grateful that I had only been to a tanning bed twice in my life – the smell my body gave off after a tanning session, like that of microwaved flesh, grossed me out so much that I decided that being pale was preferable to feeling nauseated.
So, even though I did everything I was supposed to do to protect myself in my 20s, 30s, I still ended up getting skin cancer. Was it my youthful quest for a tan that did it? Was it some environmental element like my Diet Coke addiction that triggered something in my genes? Was it moving to Texas? I wish I knew the answer so I could warn other people.
But here’s the thing: you need to pay attention to yourself. Because of my psoriasis, I noticed when I got patches of weird skin. And I noticed right away when my pink spot popped out. The problem was that I wasn’t concerned enough (thank you photos on the internet) to seek out a dermatologist immediately. Sure, I asked my primary care physician and my gyno (since my knees were in her face) if it looked OK, but neither of them were trained in skin issues. And obviously, if my dermatologist had never seen in person amelanotic nodular melanoma before, they probably hadn’t either.
This type of skin cancer is usually pretty deadly because it masquerades as a “normal” spot. And people don’t get it checked until much later because it doesn’t present as something that you should be concerned about. This type of melanoma doesn’t follow the typical ABCDE checklist to look for melanoma. I’m lucky. My spot was in a pretty visible location. I’m vain. I pay attention to skin changes (although mostly because I’m looking for signs that I need to talk to a plastic surgeon about my sagging jowls). And I have a dermatologist that was thorough.
This type of melanoma is found more often in men. And on men, it is typically found on the back. Men, don’t be shy about checking out the rest of your naked skin – I mean, we know what part you usually are looking at – but check out the backs of your knees, your lower back, and your head and neck too. Use a hand mirror or three-way mirror if you need to. If you find something that concerns you, even if it’s just because something new popped up, go to the dermatologist. It’s better to be told you’re paranoid than you’re now a statistic.