Liquid nitrogen is a rather chilly  – 200 ° C.

It is very cold. In fact, it is so cold that it feels like you’re being burned. I know this because  I recently had my various parts of my face blasted with a canister of the stuff.

 

 

This is not the first time I’ve had this done. Over the years, I’m sure I must have had around 8 – 10 of these treatments. Because of our various moves, I’m now onto my third or fourth dermatologist, and this doctor, like the others, determined that my actinic keratoses (aka precancerous skin lesions) would welcome his icy efforts.

It’s not particularly pleasant but it’s not unendurable either.  It throbs for awhile and then the next day everything is swollen and inflamed and eventually the resultant scabby mess falls off. Trust me, one feels extremely attractive during the seven to ten days it takes for all this to occur.

The new doctor and I did the usual jokes about the ridiculousness of my teen years when I firmly believed that baby oil mixed with iodine was the perfect way to burn myself so I could build a ‘good base’ for the tan that was every girl’s dream.

Oh yeh, baby.

My new doctor is located in Canmore. He said that this area (the mountainous region west of Canmore, that encompasses Kimberley, Cranbrook, Golden, Fernie) has some of the highest skin cancer rates of anywhere he’s seen, including a stint he did in Southern California.

Bonus!

Kimberley, like the other mountainous towns in this region, sits at 1,120 metres (3,670 feet). Apparently, for every 1000 feet in elevation gain, there is an 8-10% increase in ultraviolet intensity. Canmore, as another example, sits at 1,480 metres (4,860 feet).

In other words, walking on a sunny sea level beach is way less dangerous for my pale face than a sunny hike here in the mountains.

 

 

But then he threw in another observation about why there might be the record numbers of sun damage for this region. “People here,” he said, “are a bit obsessive about their outdoor activities. They spend a lot of time outside.”

Well, yes, one could say that. To suggest the locals around here are keeners is a slight understatement. I swear everyone we meet is either just back from whitewater kayaking, cycling, orienteering, rock climbing, hiking or has just completed a triathlon. In the winter, you can add cross-country and downhill skiing, snowshoeing, snowboarding and who knows what else…

He told me that even when his patients go on a holiday, it’s often to complete a cycling circumnavigation of Iceland or bag a peak somewhere. In other words, no one is swanning about on a chaise lounge with a paper umbrella in their drink. Instead, everyone is outdoors doing something almost every single day of the year. One might go so far as to describe some of these individuals as bordering on obsessive…

So. Take a self-selecting group of keeners combined with mountainous elevations, add in a climate with the highest number of sunny hours in all of British Columbia, and voilà, you have skin cancer rates that top the charts.

Yip-freakin’-pee.

In the good news department, I may obsess about some things, but knocking myself out every day is not on that list. I am quite happy to be curled up on a sofa with a great Netflix lineup.  I have also been known to hang out on the aforementioned chaise lounge (under a shady palm tree or umbrella) with a drink or two and a good book.

 

 

In other words, I don’t think I am quite as keen as most. This could prove to be a healthy move for me.

Since I titled this post as a public service announcement, I will tell you what else I learned: sunscreen.

I know you know all about this stuff. I certainly thought I did. After all, I slather those creams on every single day. Rain or shine. And I wear hats, a lot of hats. I’ve done all this for years. Probably since that first time I had my face blasted and realized I really didn’t want skin cancer.

But I’ve always wondered about the chemical soup that my skin was absorbing. On balance, I felt the sunscreen chemicals coursing through my bloodstream were probably less dangerous than the skin cancer. As it turns out, not so much. There are some really nasty things in that sunscreen (oxybenzone anyone?) that I’ve ever-so-faithfully been rubbing into my skin.

Mercifully, there is a solution. The trick is to not wear a chemical sunscreen that your skin absorbs, but instead, a mineral-based product that sits on top of the skin and physically blocks the sun’s rays from penetrating.

And that, my friends is where zinc and titanium come in.  Zinc and titanium provide a physical barrier between your skin and those nasty UV rays. Blessedly, it’s no longer the white stick that every lifeguard used to slather on their nose.

 

 

Now, it’s a lovely blend that feels good and goes on with barely a hint of white.

I realize I’m starting to sound like an infomercial. I promise this is not morphing into some pyramid-scheme where I rake in a tidy commission from your purchase. Though, to be fair, a little income now and then would be nice. But no. That is not what I’m doing here.

Instead, I just want to share what I’ve learned and hope that you can save yourself from being subjected to the freezing nitrogen-blaster event, because really? It isn’t that much fun.

Here’s some links to listings of some recommended zinc/titanium sunscreens:

InStyle Magazine

Beauty Editor

NewYork Magazine

Do yourself a favour. Enjoy your outdoor life. Wear a hat. Slap on some mineral-based sunscreen. Reapply it often.

And every once in a while, go inside, lay on the sofa with a book or pull a blanket up to your chin and have a nap. Let the rest of them tackle those mountains. Tell everyone you’re doing it as part of your health regime.

Your super-keen friends might not understand but your face will thank you.