Sunburn

How could I have been so stupid? I don’t know.

I certainly know better and I even received a visual reminder, which I somehow ignored.

There I was at my granddaughter’s first birthday party last Saturday (Aug. 8 — ironically, my late father’s birthday). On hand were a bunch of adults, one pre-teen and two kids — one almost three and the other about to turn one year old in three days time.

The party was being held in advance so my son and his wife could stage this daytime BBQ party in the backyard of their new house on the weekend, when more people could attend, and in a more leisurely manner.

Despite advance warnings of rain for that day, it actually turned out to be one of the all-too-rare sunny days of this mostly overcast, terribly wet summer. I don’t get out nearly as much as I used to and I certainly hadn’t been out in the sun for any period of time this summer. So I never even thought once about applying sunscreen, even though I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. (My favourite red one, which I am seen wearing in almost all pictures of me this spring and summer.)

It was a great party.

However, at one point I was down on one knee “chatting” with the birthday girl, Rachel, when her dad came along and began liberally applying more sunscreen to her arms and hands and legs, and neck and seemingly everywhere. And I’m thinking to myself, “Yes sir, with the sunscreen and her special pink hat with the big number 1 on it, she is certainly well protected from the sun. What a good, smart dad she has.”

What I SHOULD have been thinking is what a stupid grandfather she has.

Even later, I’m sitting in the bright sun, and I’m teasing my brother-in-law Richard about his very white legs. “Hey, Mariette. I was just looking at Richard’s legs and that reminds me, we’ll have to get a turkey for Thanksgiving.”

I SHOULD have been thinking of my own very white legs. I DID think to myself that I didn’t have to worry about my legs, because I was wearing jeans. I had thought of wearing shorts but I didn’t want to tempt the weather gods AND I figured my legs might burn, since this would be their first time this year exposed to the sun. Duh! What about your exposed arms, dummy?

Sitting out there, we even noted over and over again how bright and how very hot the sun was. I cherished every little breeze and even visited the shade from time to time.

Still, I somehow never twigged to how exposed I’d left myself.

When we did get home, after four great hours outdoors, I went to lie down, only to discover I couldn’t get comfortable. Now I’m quite familiar with leg pain but suddenly my arms were hurting as well. I got up and finally looked at them and realized they were bright crimson from where my sleeve ended, down to the knuckles on the back of my hands.

OUCH!!!

I came downstairs to be informed that our son Travis, who was up from Toronto for the weekend, had just discovered that the top of his knees were also crimson.

Unfortunately, despite applications of moisturizer, my arms are still almost as red, and just as sore, days later. Today, they’re somewhat faded, itchy from time to time, and still a bit painful when touched.

At first, looking at them earlier this week, I couldn’t understand why they didn’t hurt even more. Then I remembered that for the chronic (constant) leg pain I suffer, I take a slow-release painkiller, one in the morning, one at night, that’s supposed to last 12 hours. (They don’t seem to last quite that long but I get by. Fortunately I also have another, quick-acting pill for what we call breakthrough pain — pain that suddenly exceeds the usual pain levels.)

So obviously these painkillers were helping reduce the pain from the sunburn as well as the leg pain. (Maybe even disguising, a bit, how serious the sunburn was?) Now my family knows I am very conscientious and careful with these painkillers, due to the fact they’re pretty heavy duty. Sometimes though, even I find myself acting a little weird. For example, when I’d wake because of increased pain in my arms — no doubt from all the tossing and turning I do — I WOULDN’T take a quick-acting painkiller because this breakthrough pain was not from my legs. Breakthrough leg pain is primarily what the painkillers are for, at least in my mind. I’ve been chided by doctor and spouse in the past for being overly conscientious. I was probably being a little dumb again. Pain is pain. But that’s just the way I am.

Besides, as another bit of dumbness, I have this “serves me right” kind of feeling for being so oblivious as to have not even contemplated the obvious: Sunscreen is essential when out in the sun.

So, a week later, I still have this all-too-vivid reminder of just how stupid I was last weekend.

Now I’m not looking for pity. Having people feel sorry for me — I don’t even feel sorry for myself — is not my purpose here. But if this serves as a warning to others to NOT forget the sunscreen — now that we actually have some sun — then my suffering will not be in vain. (Thank goodness I somehow knew enough to wear a wide-brimmed straw hat to protect my face and ears and neck. Had I burned my face, it would really hurt to smile like this.)