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The Sun God

Yesterday, I had an enthusiastic patch of skin cancer removed from my cheek.  The procedure involved cutting out what was obvious, then checking the sample in the lab to see if it had all been gotten.  While the lab checked, I caught up with magazines left over from World War II or III.

It is late November, and I had been thinking more of convenient clothing to wear at the clinic than of staying warm, and dermatologists apparently prefer chilled patients.  Finally, I went outside to stand in the sun.

"Odd!", I thought.  "The doctor keeps asking me if I spent a lot of time outdoors when I was a child."  I have the impression that I did, but that was a long life ago.  I know that she was calculating radiation damage from the sun.  "And here I am, in the middle of multiple minor operations for skin cancer, standing in the sun."

"Crop rotation!", I thought.  I am just getting the next crop ready."

It is difficult for someone from Western Washington to recognize that ultraviolet rays are not screened by cloudy skies.  I found it easier to expect that I would someday develop a serious case of green moss.  And truth to tell, I have done that, too.

Of course I spent a lot of time outdoors!  Sunburn?  Why else was there summer?  Sunscreen?  Was that like a screen door?  Does the sun shine in haying time?  Does the sun shine down on a fishing boat?  Do people in the Pacific Northwest duck behind shade trees when the sun does come out?  No, they cultivate eventual skin cancer.

It still seems worth the trade-off.  One has to believe in something.

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