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Skin Why do we ignore the truth in pursuit of temporary satisfaction? by Nicole Panepinto "Sunburnt and swarthy though she be" —John Dryden, "All For Love" Sunscreen...it's not just an afterthought. Well it totally was an afterthought, but it won't be ever, EVER again. As I sit here tending to my charred skin after a little event I like to call Sunapalooza 2006, I think it's safe to say I didn't use enough sunscreen. I dread what might have become of my epidermis if I had skipped sunscreen altogether. In the last three days I've used an entire tub of moisturizer on my leather — I mean — "skin." While my perma-glisten is charming (from far away), the fact that everything I've touched in the past 72 hours has a grease-mark is sort of grossing me out. I can't seem to keep my fingers from sliding off my computer keyboard (annoying)...cell phone (infuriating)...or the steering wheel (just plain dangerous, really). On the plus side, some women pay big money to have the skin on their face completely resurfaced. Mine, conveniently, has just sloughed off entirely on its own. I suppose I should explain. Last week I headed down to Miami. Even though I was going for work, I knew there'd be plenty of time spent lying in the sun. I had already selected the perfect "beach read" as well as a tankini that would give me an acceptable tan line. I was, after all, going to be getting a pre-summer tan and I didn't want to create a weird shoulder pattern that I would have to spend the next three months trying to even out (remember all that tanning you did before prom?). As I was packing my suitcase, I had the last minute genius idea to throw in some sun block. Divine intervention perhaps? This simple move may have saved me from spontaneously combusting right there in my adorable new swimsuit. No seriously. Combusting. While it's too late to save myself from what promises to be weeks of peeling, splotchiness, and an all-around "greased pig" sensation, I thought you might benefit from some information I recently (post traumatic burn) found about sunscreen use. The American Academy of Dermatology's recommendations for effective sunscreen use include:
I want to carry this over to some life application, but first I offer this disclaimer: I'm not trying to be histrionic. Our little chat doesn't have to have a deeper meaning or a hidden nugget of truth; it could just be about "the time I cooked my skin." There is, however, some truth to be had, some stuff I'm learning, prompted by this most recent "burn of events" (ugh...sorry). I knew the truth about prolonged sun exposure before I read The American Academy of Dermatology's helpful checklist. I knew the facts (risk of sun burn/sun poisoning/skin cancer), yet I acted on the belief that they wouldn't apply to me. I spend more money on make-up and skincare products (mostly anti-aging, let's be honest) than I'm comfortable admitting at this stage of our relationship. I was intent on getting out in the sun and "getting some color" even if it did seem to nullify all my other skin-perfecting efforts. That's what has me thinking (it also has me peeling and flaking). I knew the risk and I made a choice that contradicted my usual pursuit. Still think I'm talking about skin? How many other decisions do I make in spite of the fact that they conflict with what I profess to be about? Not to make a big deal about reckless time in the sun, but what about reckless finances or reckless relationships or reckless faith? How often do I disregard truth (aforementioned burn/poison/cancer combo, for example) in order to pursue some temporary satisfaction? I seek council but then discount the wisdom that is shared because it doesn't fit into what I have in mind. I've ignored advice because the recommendations I received weren't convenient, immediate, or easy. Inevitably, I get burned (literally and figuratively) when I could have avoided it. Can you relate? |
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