The day my life changed, I sat on crinkly paper in a blue hospital gown. A surgeon had cut wide incisions to remove skin cancer—melanoma—in four places on my back and neck. I had 34 stitches taken out, and the scars were the length of a hand, but there was good news. I was healing. As far as the surgeon knew, the cancer hadn’t spread, and I thought the hard part was over.
Then, the surgeon delivered a blow.
A blood test showed I had a genetic mutation. The CDKN2A gene in all of us regulates cell division. Mine is faulty, which makes the risk of cancer returning high. While genetics will probably have the greatest influence on my health, managing environmental risks is important. Limiting sun exposure is my best shot at survival. The ideal amount of UV exposure for someone like me? None.
The walk home was long. I had trouble digesting what the surgeon had said. I have spent much of my life in the sun, but not for the tan. I am a climber, a runner, a paddler, and a skier. Moving through mountains, over lakes, and across snow is who I am.
I met my husband, Dave,…
