We found out recently that my uncle has cancer. It's a fairly nasty version of it, and my parents had some trouble getting the details out of my aunt and uncle -- the former is overwhelmed and a little scatterbrained, and the latter is pretty taken up with a third round of chemo kicking his ass. Things look pretty bad, and it's especially harsh because my uncle is really the patriarch of his family; they have a car dealership where two out of his three kids work, and one of my cousins has two girls who suffer from mitochondrial disease. My uncle really is the glue that holds all of them together; he's very involved with his six grandkids and really has spearheaded huge efforts to raise money for research on mitochondrial disease. My aunt, who is very sweet and well educated but a little flaky, never even had to so much as drive to the airport until she was in her 50s. My uncle just handled everything. So him being ill is a really big blow in terms of both his practical and emotional support for his whole family.

My mom called me a couple of days ago, and figuring that as usual I'd be on my laptop, asked me to look up something like "mercer" cancer. That was as much as she got out of my aunt; that and the fact that whatever type of cancer he has, my uncle is only the fifth person his doctors have seen with it. Which is not encouraging, since he's going to The Cleveland Clinic -- a pretty fancy facility, even if it's in Cleveland.

I wasn't on my computer for once, so the next chance I had, I started to do very depressing searches for rare types of cancer. I know it's all over my uncle, including his liver, but I don't know where it started so that sort of limited me. But I finally found it: Merkel Cell Carcinoma. Supposedly my uncle is in Stage IV, but all the info I can find on this type of cancer is that they only go as high as Stage III -- where the cancer has spread beyond the lymph nodes. Before it goes to and then spreads beyond the lymph nodes, this cancer starts in the merkel cells (I keep thinking Urkel cells, which is wrong and not nearly as funny as I'd like it to be), so it's a rare skin cancer that tends to hit older Caucasian people with prolonged sun exposure and lousy immune systems.

My mom was really angry when she heard about this. My uncle has been mostly bald for as long as I've been alive, and he was a very regular golfer with a pretty poor family health history. So there were some harsh words spoken for him having spent a lot of time out in the sun not protecting his bald pate from a future of skin cancer.

After all this, it just figures that I'd go out and completely fry myself in the sun, doesn't it? I took the two older boys to the pool yesterday, where they spent from 12:30 until 5:00 pm playing with various other kids. I actually got to listen to music and read a little, which is the most relaxation I've had for a long time. Relaxing in very small doses, because while the boys are older and more confident in the water, I still feel it necessary to do a quick check for their neon-goggle-adorned wet heads and make sure everyone's safe and happy. At every "safety break," where they clear the big pools of anyone under 16 for 15 minutes on the hour, I had the boys come back so I could splurt more sunblock on them. They'd take a few gulps of lemonade and a handful of chips, and then race off to find their new buddies.

I definitely applied sunblock to myself more than on the boys -- I had this Coppertone Sport spray SPF 30 that I've been using all summer to good effect. I didn't feel like I was burning at all, but started to feel warm toward the end of the afternoon. It's just that the boys were having so much fun, and not fighting or bleeding or anything, and I figured why not let them stay? I wrapped a towel around my upper body and stuck it out. But on the drive home, I could feel my left shoulder getting all prickly and itchy -- that teasing itch that turns into horrid pain when you make the mistake of unconsciously scratching it.

Since my bathing suits are all halter-top things, my whole back is totally fried. I don't own any halter-top bras, so I've spent the past 24 hours in a very unflattering, strapless top that I usually only wear under another shirt. I've got random patches of burn on my thighs, knees, and arms, too. My face is mostly okay, just a little pink around the forehead.

Every time the boys see me, they make that "yeesh" whistly sort of sound through their teeth and say "Oh, you're all RED!" Yes, boys, I'm still quite red! It hasn't gone away that fast! I'm using myself as a warning to the boys, as in "this is why I always make such a big deal about you wearing sunblock." DH is not thrilled at all. There was even a brief conversation along the lines of him not wanting me to end up like my uncle, since I am a Caucasian with a lousy immune system who is certainly not getting younger.

All I can say is, being tan is NOT worth this kind of pain. I can't lay back at all, lay on my left side (a habit born out of three pregnancies' instructions to sleep that way), or wear a freakin' bra or shirt -- definitely an issue when you're sporting 37-year-old 40DDs. I'm not sure how I'm going to take Jake to camp tomorrow without really embarrassing myself. I think I may have to sacrifice pain for a modicum of pride.

In the meantime, I'm laying on the aloe vera gel as often as I can and waiting out the burn. I know vinegar is supposed to take the sting out, but I honestly can't handle the smell. I'd tried it a few years back and I don't remember it working. If anyone has any other folk remedies that really do help, feel free to shoot them my way. But please, don't touch my shoulder. Or my back. Or my knee. Or, really, anything. Thanks.