HERE COMES THE SUN...OH NO!

You don't have to tell me this is an ugly hand.  I think I have written before about looking at the ends of my arms and seeing my dad's hands attached.  Twist of genetic fate.   Ruddy, wrinkly, and a shared  disregard for protection from sun, water, detergent...you name it.

But I should have taken a photo at the height of my recent regimen of topical chemotherapy to treat pre-cancerous lesions (keratosis).  This photo is actually one week out from discontinuing the treatment.   Keratosis has the potential of turning into a form of skin cancer -- basal cell or squamous cell.  I've had both already -- a basal cell on my nose and a squamous cell on my leg.  When I was examined recently, my dermatologist detected teeny little red discolorations on my hands and forearms.

So, not wanting to take any chances, she had me smear this creme stuff on the backs of my hands for 3-1/2 weeks.  She said the medication would cause the "bad" cells to show up as red, blotchy areas, a rash perhaps resulting in oozing and scabbing, itching and burning.  I was so looking forward to that!  Of course I went on the internet and treated myself to some truly horrifying stories and photos of what looked like burn victims with skin peeling off.

So, when my hands got some red blotches, a bit of a burning sensation that lasted, oh, about 5 minutes after applying the creme, and a few teeny tiny scabs, I figured I was at the beginning of the descent into hell I'd seen and heard described.  Then, when that didn't happen, I figured I was doing it wrong and the medicine wasn't working.  Have I said I always expect the worst?

Going back for my scheduled re-check, I was declared "good".  My case wasn't so severe and the medicine did exactly what it was supposed to do and I could discontinue it and start on a multiple times a day moisturizing routine as the rash healed.  And I was to never, ever, never again let my skin be exposed to the sun.  Thank you Scandinavian and Northern European heritage.

We have all heard that a lifetime of sun exposure causes cell damage in just about anyone.  For those of us with red hair and blue eyes, the sun really isn't our friend at all.  I never purposely "laid out" in the sun.  I was always too hot and uncomfortable to do it and saw no result other than red.  I never really tanned...not like my blonde and brunette friends who I envied for their bronze, smooth-skinned beauty.  My skin has always been marked by freckles, moles, bumps, and discolorations.  I don't look hideous, mind you, but I still literally stare at women with smooth, flawless skin and wonder what that would be like.  I still envy.

I did get a couple of blistering burns in my 20s.  One on my first trip to California when I fell asleep on an LA beach.  Another on a trip to Georgia when I just stupidly didn't think of putting sunscreen on and got the worst burn of my life.  Duh!  Those were bad.  And we lived in South Carolina for two years in my early 30s and I figured going to the beach every day had inoculated me from damage since for the first and only time in my life, daily exposure led to a teeny tan that didn't seem to burn after awhile.  Ignorance.

I'm paying for those indiscretions now.  And even after living in the Pacific Northwest for 33 years I guess enough sun comes through our infamously cloudy skies to contribute to the problem.

Plus, on the very day I was given the "all clear" on my hands, I also had an eye appointment where the optometrist detected "very early, not to worry yet" changes that could lead to cataract.  WHAT?  "Why?" I asked him.   Seems family history plays a role.  (Thanks Grandma and Mom), as does...sun exposure!  He recommended wearing sunglasses most days -- even those of "bright cloudiness" (This is what we call sunshine during Washington's rainy season -- October to July).

With my new lens prescription I got new regular glasses and new prescription sunglasses.  I have stocked up on odorless sunscreen.  (Yes, I have read recently that the chemicals in sunscreen are also harmful and there is a movement afoot to eschew those products and just let the healing warmth of the sun have its way with us, within reason. So I don't know about that.  I think I'll stick with the sunscreen.)  As for our annual trip to Hawaii...well...you'll find me under the palms, in the shade, wearing a burka.

At least, that's the view from here....©

I AM MY SUNSHINE

One does not want to sound ungrateful.  I am grateful, believe me.  The opportunity to spend 2-1/2 weeks in Hawaii at the end of January and beginning of February is not something to take for granted.  I am blessed beyond belief.

But does that mean I can't be a wee bit disappointed that this 2-1/2 weeks has been unseasonably cool and cloudy?  I was sooooo looking forward to this trip, imagining long lounges in the sun, frequent dips in the huge pool, kicking at the waves lapping the sandy shore….

Got a little bit of that -- a very little.  Mostly, it felt like home on days when we stare up at the overcast sky and try to figure out which way the clouds are moving and whether there is a sun above the thick layer of gray and when, if ever, it might break through; days when we dress in shirtsleeves and sweatshirts and spend an inordinate amount of time putting on and taking off various layers of clothing; days when we hope that "tomorrow" the sun will come out.

We are going home today; home to where snow fell last night, blanketing Puget Sound in white, which is also unusual and I wonder if the new buds and bursts of green in my garden, that were a harbinger of spring not too far off, will survive the deep freeze of last week and the snow of this weekend.

For someone who seems to need sunshine like nourishment, I have to question my decision to live in the rain-soaked Northwest and then buy a timeshare on Hawaii's wettest island.   Maybe it has to do with the green, lush, amazing beauty of both places.

Maybe it is my Higher Self hitting me over the head with the message that my narrowly defined comfort zone could use some expanding.   Other people went in the pool in spite of the wind and cloud cover and only shivered a little bit when they got out.  Other people went on cloudy, drizzly day hikes and laughed over slipping and falling onto Kauai's red dirt trails that turn to mudslides with the slightest precipitative provocation.   Other people donned rain gear and booked whale watching expeditions onto the choppy Pacific.

Sorry, Higher Self, I don't buy it; none of these things appeal to me.  I don't like being cold, covered in red mud that never washes out and leaves a stain on all it touches (voice of experience), or being seasick.

I just kept waiting for the sun:   reading several books, doing the NYT crossword each morning, journaling, blogging, posting to FB and working on some poems, watching the whales spout and breech offshore, going on "let's explore backroads" drives, savoring the most amazing Hub-grilled fish every night by candlelight in our room overlooking Kalapaki Bay, being quiet, being social, being reclusive, being 100% in connection with Hub (no disagreements, arguments, frustrations, or resentments in spite of 24/7 proximity!).

OK, maybe it wasn't such a bad trip after all; maybe all that sunshine would have distracted me from the quieter warmth that finds a way to shine from within.

At least, that's the view from here… ©

A WHITER SHADE OF PALE

So, it's been a bit disappointing, the Kaua'i weather during this trip.  I've seen more long pants and long sleeves and light jackets than ever before.  I brought two long-sleeved tops and one pair of long pants.  It may be time to go to the Mall.

But yesterday, as we sat on the Terrace overlooking the pool and out to the beach, we noted a brightness to the gray.  Others were lamenting another cloudy day, but not us.  We knew.  Because we are masters of evaluating the various shades of gray and what lies beyond the cloud cover that may look relentless, but actually is just a tricky disguise.

I mean, my god, it was such a BRIGHT gray that slight shadows were being cast.  There was a perceptible (OK, subtle) increase in ambient temperature.  This was a friggin' SUNNY DAY!

We started to shed our clothing and wriggle into our swimsuits for a day at the beach.  And sure enough, within an hour or two -- bright sunshine!  Oh, ye of little faith.

When we first moved to the Seattle area in 1982 we happened upon a documentary on some TV channel about an artist who loved to paint the Northwest.  He spoke of the amazing array of color and the shifting and beautiful shades of gray.  We had just moved from a barrier island off the coast of Charleston in South Carolina, where sunny days and blue skies were about as expected as Christmas in December.  So, we totally cracked up as this dude waxed on about the beauty of gray.

Soon, we got it.  And while that particular brand of beauty can get old after several months straight of carefully scanning the skies, observing those shifting clouds, looking for any promise of a whiter shade of pale, we are now expert at predicting a sunny day even when that sun is heavily filtered.

We got the best spot on the beach; the non-believers having abandoned the day for indoor activities.  Silly folk.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©