I assume everyone’s been following our visit to Hawaii at Dave’s blog, and I don’t have a ton to add to his account. Except this: I got a really bad sunburn on Thursday. And the dumbest part was that I was pretty sure it was happening and just trusted in…I don’t know — God? — that I would be spared. We’d gone to Hapuna Beach to boogie-board, and had both pretty well glazed ourselves in SPF 50 sunscreen before we left the condo, and then when I came out of the water I had been so pummeled by the waves, and the warm, refreshing breeze wafting over me felt so good, that I couldn’t rouse myself from my mat to reapply. I can even distinctly recall a moment that I tried to sit myself up to apply another coat but I was in such a perfect state of relaxation that I felt myself pressed down as if under an x-ray apron.
And then about an hour later, it became clear how goddamn dumb I am. My face is pink from the sunglasses down. There is a horseshoe of staticky pink on my chest. There are two wide strips of coral right under where the hem of my board shorts would lie. But worst of all, the undersides of my arms — which had been pointing right at the sun when I was on the beach — are PURPLE. They hurt a lot. Sleeping Thursday night was not easy; I should have bought myself an extra sheet to swaddle myself in just to make sure my skin didn’t stick to…my other skin.
I always know I will burn. I am very fair. And I came here straight from winter (or “winter,” as it kind of was in New York this year, but still), so from the neck down it looks like I’ve been molded out of sour cream. I’m like a big white target! So now I’m wincing around, trying not to let the purple sides of my arms touch my body, making Dave sad for me, and I can’t even milk it because I know I’m totally and utterly to blame for my own stupid plight.
Fortunately, the colour seems to be fading and the irritation is calming down. Even more fortunately, I packed several soft sundresses that fit like nighties, which will have to do until it’s socially acceptable for me to go out in my actual pyjamas.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Clumsy Joan. Real clumsy.
Aw baby. We’ve all done it. The best cure I’ve found, and you probably already know it, is aloe vera. The cream is fine but if you can get to a health type store and find pure aloe vera gel, it rules. Feels great and turns the painful red into a lovely tan.
Also, hope you’re having tons of fun.
As a fellow pale and pasty gal, I feel your pain.
I did the same thing recently in Mexico. It was a cloudy day, so I was not compulsively re-applying sunscreen every 12.25 minutes, nor was I sitiing in the shade.
I was still peeling three weeks later.
I hope you feel better soon!
I did the same thing to myself in Mykonos, Greece in 2002. I had finally emerged from the safety of my patio umbrella to take a quick dip in the salt water pool only to get into a conversation with someone while in the water…yappity yap…60 minutes go by and it was hell for the next week. I had forgotten that salt water washes off sunblock almost instantly unlike chlorinated fresh which is a bit slower. Anyhoo, backpacking in Europe usually involves, yes, a backpack but with scorched shoulders, not so much. I still have the freckles from that moment of stupidity. I wear 30 SPF now just to walk the dog.
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