Even on a cloudy day, Deb Girard lathers on sunscreen.
“I try to be a good role model,” says Girard, the executive director of IMPACT Melanoma, a nonprofit that works to increase education and reduce skin cancer.
Melanoma rates have continued to rise over the past 30 years. Cities, nonprofits and health organizations are looking for strategies to reduce that statistic.
One way is through sunscreen dispensers.
Whether it’s heading to a baseball game or walking on a public beach, free sunscreen is now available for passersby in places like the Braves stadium in Atlanta and West Palm Beach, Florida. These small, touch-free dispensers work just like the automatic hand-sanitizer dispensers that you might find in restaurants, schools and grocery stores.
The goal of these dispensers is to make sunscreen accessible, cue visual reminders to reapply and as a result, lower rates of melanoma, says Girard.
Melanoma rates are rising faster than that of any other cancer: every hour one person dies from the disease in the U.S. alone, and it’s the most common form of cancer for people between the ages of 15 and 29. It amounts to $3.3 billion in health care costs annually.
“As compared to needing treatment for skin cancer and melanoma, [dispensers] are not expensive things,” Girard says.
Melanoma is largely preventable, and the way to do that is by using sunscreen every day.
Ross Donaldson says his family has more sunscreen than the average family. “But we never seem to have it where we needed it and when we needed it.”
So he developed his own sunscreen dispenser called Sunstation USA.
If hand sanitizer dispensers are everywhere, sunscreen dispensers can be too, says Donaldson, Sunstation’s CEO. He says it felt like a simple solution that could help reduce sun cancer. “There’s a lot of research dedicated towards public sunscreen intervention programs and the results are really promising,” he says.
Melanoma rates have decreased in 23 states. In the Northeast, which is one area that has seen a decrease, sunscreen dispensers and programming, like the ones IMPACT Melanoma provides, are linked to those lowering numbers.
IMPACT Melanoma launched a program called #PracticeSafeSkin to help provide cities access to sunscreen.
“It’s challenging and somewhat exciting to work with cities and towns who are realizing that this is something they can give to their communities,” Girard says. “And that doesn’t cost a lot of money.”
In 2016, IMPACT Melanoma partnered with Brightguard, a sunscreen dispenser manufacturer, to place 10 dispensers in highly trafficked, sunny areas of Boston, where IMPACT Melanoma is based.
Since then, IMPACT Melanoma has placed about 4,000 dispensers across the country, and the nonprofit partners with public and private sponsors to provide sunscreen and education. And it’s continuing to expand its reach: in 2018, the nonprofit received two state grants in Vermont and Maine to launch a two-year project that will bring programming and 100 dispensers to each state.
Girard says these two-year projects will help the nonprofit understand how the dispensers are changing people’s perception about sunscreen.
“When we go into new communities and new hubs, we do some surveying to try to understand what awareness there is about sunscreen use and about how people in the community are using sunscreen,” Girard says. “And then our goal is, after a couple of years, to go back and survey again.”
Each dispenser and each program is slightly different, but they all have the same goal: touch-free sunscreen.
Brightguard, for example, equips each battery-powered dispenser with a 1000-milliliter bag of SPF 30 sunscreen. This supplies about 250 people with sunscreen, according to Brightguard’s website. And the sunscreen is free of parabens as well as oxybenzone, which has been linked to coral reef bleaching and hormone disruption.
One challenge has been the maintenance of the dispensers. Since most of them are in public places, it can be difficult to designate a person in charge of refilling, cleaning and maintaining them.
“With a successful program, we want somebody [maintaining] them regularly,” Girard says. “So we are working with organizations and municipalities to come up with maintenance plans.”
As cities and companies refine their approach, IMPACT Melanoma and other programs plan to expand access.
“What we’re trying to figure out is how to make it so that doing good sun protection and having good sun behavior comes naturally,” Girard says.
More: This City Is Reducing Cancer Risk, One Laundromat at a Time
Tag: cancer
My Final Act of Service
Two years ago, I was built like a tank. I’ve been built like that my entire life, having grown up as a wrestler in high school and college. Once, way back then, someone looked at me and said, “What the hell are you?”
I look much different now. It’s hard for me to speak for long periods of time, and I’m about half the size I used to be. Now, I’m happy to just get up and walk, which is a mental challenge all by itself. The guy I used to be has been destroyed by chemotherapy.
In late 2015, I was diagnosed with stage-four cholangiocarcinoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer that starts in the bile ducts. I don’t know how much time I have left; I may not even make it to my 55th birthday this December. But I’m happy that I can go knowing I’ve lived my life in complete service to others and to my family.
Except I have a teenage son, and there’s still so much to teach him.
I won’t be able to impart my wisdom to Mason as he grows up. That’s why I’m making sure he knows now the importance of living a life in service, like I have. The lessons are simple: Be humble, be open and be helpful.
Growing up, my father was constantly working, which meant he wasn’t around a ton. He did the best he could though, and I considered him my best friend. But I didn’t have someone who could mentally challenge me. I got into wrestling in the seventh grade, and my coach became that person for me instead. He ended up being a formidable figure in my life, and I’m still in touch with him today.
You could tell immediately that this man had served in the military — through his mannerisms, his attention to detail and his level of concentration. I thought, “This guy is incredible.” At an early age, my coach gave me advice that to this day I continue to take to heart:
“Don’t be a wise guy,” he would tell me. “Don’t be a showboat.”
Eventually, I joined the Marines, and that advice is what got me through basic training. Now, it’s something I teach Mason at every opportunity. We have a lot of big talks these days — especially now that I don’t know how long I have left to live — and I try to tell him who I was before the military.
I tell him not to be that guy.
When I enlisted in 1982, I was a very private person. In fact, you could say I was pretty closed off. But interaction with people is important, and you have to be open and outgoing. There is just something about being open to new experiences that makes life more meaningful. It also makes you not afraid to help people.
There is nothing more gratifying than helping others, and there are many avenues for doing that — not just through the military.
I joined the Marines after one year of college because I simply didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. In fact, the movie “An Officer and a Gentleman,” about a guy who joins the Navy, came out right before I signed up, and that shaped what I thought the military was going to be like.
I was wrong.
My time in the military wasn’t like a Richard Gere action-romance film. It was tough, and it was terrifying. But it also made me grow into a man that started to think to myself, “What can I do to give back?” What the Marines did was laser-focus my attention and instilled in me the idea that, “Hey, you’re capable of a hell of a lot more than what you’re doing now.”
I left the service in 1988, and it haunted me for a long time. I just missed it so badly. I still say that the Marine Corps was the best job I ever had. But I can no longer regret leaving, because I have the best family God could give me, and I would never have met my wife and had Mason if I had stayed.
But here’s the thing: When you serve, the experience never truly leaves you; it always stays with you. Every time something tragic occurred, I would quietly shed a tear. When 9/11 happened, I was choked up watching the coverage on TV. I felt like I should be there — I needed to help.
So off I went to Ground Zero, wearing my old and dated fatigues from the ’80s, and was able to get my way onto the search and rescue team that pulled out the first five people. It was surreal; everyone had the same look on their face, much like how they talk about the empty thousand-yard stare of soldiers who served in Vietnam. There was a gray, pinkish powder in the air, like debris mixed with blood. And it covered everything.
My cancer, my family and I believe, has a direct correlation to my time helping on the pile. But I wouldn’t take any of it back, and Mason knows that.
And that’s because service is part of me, now. I tell Mason constantly that being in service is such a selfless act. It’s contributing to something bigger than yourself. It just requires humility and the willingness to be open to help others.
Luckily for me, Mason already has most of these traits. But he’s only 14 and has a lot of growing up ahead of him and will face situations where I won’t be there to talk to him.
And that is the one thing that kills me — figuratively, of course — feeling like I’ve let down my son by dying too soon.
He’s talking right now of going to the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md. I hope he does. He’s smart and creative, and good in science and math. I can see him being a biomechanical engineer or something similar.
But even if he doesn’t go into military, I just want him to be happy helping people. I tell him that if he sees someone who needs help, help them. It’s a really good feeling. I promise.
As told to NationSwell staff writer Joseph Darius Jaafari. This essay has been edited for clarity an style. Read more stories of service here.
Update: Anthony Egan passed away on Sunday, Nov. 19, 2017, with his family by his side. He served as a corporal in the intelligence unit of the U.S. Marines from 1982 until 1988. He then spent more than 20 years working in the pharmaceutical industry. He is survived by his wife and son in New Jersey.
It’s Completely Okay to Say You Want to Grow Old
The day my mom was diagnosed with cancer at age 62, she turned to my dad in tears and said, “I’m not going to get to be the grandma.”
Many women today don’t want to be called that. They think it makes them sound “old.” When I hear this, a little part of me feels like yelling, “Do you know what a privilege it is to grow old?”
Aging — and one day, being able to live to 100 — should be celebrated. To me, “Grandma” is the name of an older person who’s reached the ultimate milestone. It’s something to be grateful for, not hide from. Forget your vanity! Be proud that you made it to a phase of life that many people never got to experience.
My husband lost his father at 13. I lost my mother at 30. Sometimes I worry that we won’t be around to see our young sons grow up. Becoming a grandmother and supporting my children when they become parents has become an ultimate goal.
Late in the summer of 2015, my mother (who’d never smoked) learned she had stage 4 lung cancer. Her oncologist was hopeful he could treat her. Yet hours after their visit, my mother couldn’t catch her breath, despite being on oxygen. My father rushed her to the hospital, where she was admitted to the ICU. My sister and I arrived less than an hour before my mother was put on a ventilator. She had no idea what was happening, and we didn’t either. We couldn’t imagine that her fight with cancer could be ending before it had even begun.
For the next two weeks, we were at my mother’s side, day and night. She remained on the ventilator, unconscious. Then one night, the doctor took us aside and told us there was no longer hope. Eighteen hours after my mother was taken off the ventilator, she passed away.
This was the most horrific month of my life. Just a few weeks earlier, my mother had been at a friend’s wedding, hosting her sister for a visit, celebrating my son’s first birthday…
Even now, it’s hard to believe that she’s gone.
When I was a child, my mother worked from home and was there every afternoon when I came home from school. If I close my eyes, I can picture her standing behind our kitchen counter, doling out an obscene amount of food, eager to hear everything about my day. (She had a lot of opinions.)
Even after I became an adult, my mother would do things for me before I’d even thought to do them myself. If I mentioned to her that I was sick, there’d be a knock at my door with soup from Second Avenue Deli.
Life without her has been an adjustment in so many ways. I miss her wit and wisdom. I miss our daily calls, texts and emails. And from a practical perspective, life has become more challenging.
There’s no substitute to a grandparent when you’re raising a small child. In my first year as a working mom, my husband and I rarely had a tiff, thanks to my mom swooping in when we were both stressed and sleep-deprived to watch our son, bring us a meal, tidy up our living room, send us on a date night or take some responsibility off our plate. (“I thought the baby could use some more pajamas. Here you go!”)
It’s hard to describe the value of a grandmother kvelling over your “perfect, beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant, elite, premium, beyond adorable” babies (to use her words). It’s the confidence boost every parent needs, and one that I hope to provide to my own kids — and even to their kids — if I reach 100.
If I were to live to that age, my fantasy is that I’d be in great health and living with my husband somewhere beautiful — perhaps a lovely little apartment in Chelsea or … Provence! — reading books, drinking wine, looking out at a beautiful view and seeing our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren who just happened to have moved there.
I’d be grateful to hold them, share whatever wisdom I have and help them understand our family’s history and values. (Here’s to hoping I’ll also get to see our first female president elected!)
If I live to be 100, I will have lived almost 40 years longer than my mother did. Hearing my son say “Mama” is one of the most beautiful things in the world. I’m pretty sure being called “Grandma” is just as wonderful.
Julia Edelstein is a writer and editor specializing in health journalism. She is currently the senior health editor at Parents Magazine. She lives in New York City with her husband and their two young sons.
This post is paid for by AARP.
When Treatment Makes Kids Feel Sicker Than the Illness Itself, This Program Offers Healing, Nutritious Bites
Danielle Cook’s oldest son was only 11 years old when he was diagnosed with stage three Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a type of cancer that affects the immune system. “There was a huge sense of powerlessness and great sadness,” remembers Cook, a mother of three who worked for years as a cooking demonstration instructor in the Washington, D.C., area.
Cook, who now also works as a holistic nutritionist, relentlessly looked for answers in food. After months of making special recipes, she saw her son go from a “worn, depressed, tired kid to a healthy adolescent,” she says. Drawing from her experience, she founded Happily Hungry, a program that consists of cooking workshops geared towards hospitalized kids battling cancer and other illnesses.
Watch the video above to see how Cook helps patients and families deal with some of the negative side effects that accompany various medical treatments.
When Their Coworker Fell Ill, These Selfless Teachers Used a Little-Known Policy to Help Her Out
Our country’s hardworking teachers certainly deserve their vacations, but in the Los Angeles Unified School District, some educators decided to give up their days off to help a fellow coworker battle cancer.
Carol Clark, a much-loved sixth-grade elementary school teacher from Cudahy, Calif., was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. As ABC-7 reports, the 56-year-old quickly used up all her vacation days and the 120 sick days she had accumulated in her 17 years at Jaime Escalante Elementary School as she underwent chemotherapy and doctors visits. Due to her diagnosis, she missed all but two months of the school year.
“I lost pay, I lost my medical benefits,” she describes to the local television station. “I lost all that stuff.”
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Forced to miss more school for additional treatment, her husband Dave (who is also a teacher) decided to ask his coworkers for help by using a little-known Los Angeles plan called the Catastrophic Illness Donation program, the Los Angeles Times writes. The program allows teachers who have used up all their paid leave and are battling a severe illness to ask their fellow district employees to donate their own days off. Teachers can only use it once in their careers and must prove they are ill.
Although Dave was reluctant to ask his coworkers to donate their well-earned time off, it became necessary to do so. He left a sign-up sheet in the teachers’ lounge for anyone to donate up to 20 days and, incredibly, the community immediately rallied for one of their own.
Friends and even strangers across the whole school district stepped up and donated a total of 154 sick days — nearly an entire school year — to their colleague. According to the L.A. Times, one coworker who rarely spoke to Carol sacrificed 10 days.
“Carol has given a lot of love to a lot of people. She doesn’t realize it, but she has,” teacher Justine Gurrola tells ABC-7.
The Clarks were overwhelmed by the incredible generosity. With the donations, Carol was able to make up some of the pay she lost and even has extra sick days on reserve — should she need them.
“I was pretty blown away,” Carol, who returned to teaching this month, says. “It’s an indescribable feeling. It increases your faith in humanity.”
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Meet the Brave Student Who Started Helping Others While Battling Cancer Himself
Things might seem impossible until they’re actually done. That’s the story of Todd Blake, who was just a freshman at the University of Florida when he was diagnosed with stage IV Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, the most advanced stage of the rare blood cancer.
Not letting his diagnosis stop him from achieving his dreams of walking across the graduation stage, the young man continued to pursue his degree in business administration as he underwent 600 hours of chemotherapy and two bone marrow transplants, spending 63 nights in the hospital over five year period.
And not only did he accomplish his goal of graduating, he did it with the highest academic honors — a 4.0 GPA — and the honor of summa cum laude.
“It was really hard and there were a lot of times I wanted to give up and quit. I just kept pushing forward, thinking about that day when I would graduate and that accomplishment,” the now 23-year-old told the Today Show. “It was important to me to graduate and walk across the stage. It was symbolic.”
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During his time in the hospital, the Jacksonville native married his longtime love, Maja, and also co-founded the Live for Today Foundation. Blake realized the need for the nonprofit after noticing there aren’t social programs such as Make-a-Wish that help cancer patients over the age of 18. About 70,000 Americans ages 15 to 39 are diagnosed with cancer each year, and as he told Today, “I want to help them.” He hopes that his new degree can help parlay into a full-time job at his nonprofit.
Blake is still battling his cancer but is still determined to keep up the fight. “I honestly don’t know how much more time I will have,” he said. “I’m trying to buy time until something comes up that can cure me. I hope the research can come up with new treatments every year so I can keep fighting.”
The key, he believes, is to remain positive: “If you give up on what your dreams are and your aspirations, you really just give up on living.”
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Meet The 11-Year-Old Inventor Changing The Lives of Kids with Cancer
In the backpacks of most elementary students: Pencils, crayons, notebooks and their favorite toys. Together, these things are the tools to tackle that big worksheet or answer the question of what game to play — two major concerns of young kids.
For some children, however, life is a little more complicated. Instead of playing tag after school on the playground, children with cancer are going to chemotherapy. And a typical backpack isn’t equipped with the necessary amenities for these kids.
That’s why Kylie Simonds did something about it. This 11-year old cancer survivor has created the first chemo backpack, capable of holding all chemotherapy medicine including an I-V bag.
Three years ago, Kylie was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma, a soft tissue cancer. Although she has been cancer free for two years, she hasn’t forgotten what it was like during her year of treatment.
“I used to have to use the I-V poles and I always tripped over all the wires,” she told WTNH. “It was hard to walk around, and I always had to have someone push it for me because I was kinda weak when I was in chemo.”
Kylie’s chemo backpack, which is lightweight and stylish, eliminates this problem. She unveiled her “Hello Kitty” backpack at the Connecticut Invention Convention and amazingly, was the only one to walk away with a patent.
For Kylie, the addition of this school bag would have made receiving treatment much easier. And although she no longer needs it, she hasn’t forgotten her friends who are still fighting.
“My friend Marik, he has a prosthetic leg and he has to, well he has crutches and he always has to have someone push it for him but if he had something like that he could just slip it on,” she told WTNH.
But now with her provisional patent, Kylie can raise the money needed to make this backpack a reality for these kids. (To find out how to donate, click here.)
While life with cancer will still be difficult, at least with this backpack, they can get back to what’s most important: Being kids.
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The Touching Reason Why This Nonprofit Provides Free Housecleaning
Cleaning the house is already a real chore, but for people who have cancer, it can be much more difficult.
Take Deidre Grubb, of Pennsylvannia, who has an aggressive form of blood cancer called Multiple Myeloma. “It’s hard to run a vacuum cleaner when it hits your bones… it’s very painful,” she tells WFMZ in the video below. “It really takes a toll on you.”
Fatigue is a very common side effect of cancer and cancer treatment, making it difficult to complete day-to-day takes, much less clean an entire house. But thanks to a wonderful non-profit, Cleaning for a Reason, women like Deidre Grubb have one less thing to worry about. Once a month for four months, a local maid comes by and cleans her home—completely free of charge.
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As the Huffington Post reports, the Lewisville, Texas-based organization partners with local cleaning businesses from all over the country and in Canada who are willing to donate their services to women who have cancer. Incredibly, Cleaning for a Reason has provided 17,000 cleanings for more than 14,000 women with cancer at a value of more than $4 million in donated cleanings since 2006.
According to the nonprofit’s website, their do-gooder philosophy was born after founder Debbie Sardone spoke on the phone with a woman who couldn’t afford her cleaning company’s services because she was undergoing cancer treatment. From then on, Debbie decided that not only would no woman ever be turned down again, she would also get it for free.
For now, the service is provided only to women, not men, since the organization has limited resources (all the more reason to help support them).
But for the thousands of women who are in the fight of their lives, the organization means they have one less burden to shoulder. As one woman said in a testimonial, “You can’t know how much it meant to me. The ladies were angels sent from heaven and were such a blessing.”
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A Jacket That Should Be in Every Cancer Patient’s Hospital Bag
Simply put, being a cancer patient in the hospital stinks. Not only are you sick, but hospitals are cold, sterile places, and doctors and nurses are routinely jabbing sharp objects into your skin.
Pennsylvania-based cancer survivor Greg Hamilton knows exactly what it’s like to be in that position. As Yahoo! Finance reports, during his chemotherapy treatments, nurses would require him to partially disrobe in order to gain access the infusion sites on his chest and forearms — leaving him cold and uncomfortable.
“Not only was this humiliating,” he said, but “it also added to the pre-existing anxiety related to battling cancer.”
He and his wife, Ellen, searched for clothing that would be more comfortable for chemo, but found nothing.
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That’s when they decided to create their own jacket: The Chemo Cozy.
“Running, biking, hiking. Every activity has got clothing or apparel…just for that activity to make their experience better,” Greg says in the video below. “Why not people fighting for their lives? They should have something.”
What’s great about the jacket is that it looks like a completely normal piece of clothing — but it’s got so much more up its sleeve, including zippers that open up so medical personnel can access IV and PICC lines.
“We have something that works for people going through some of the worst times of their life,” Greg adds in the video. “And if we can do something just to make them feel a little bit better, and a little more special, and a little more normal then that’s our goal.”
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Looks like they’re much closer to making that goal a reality. Last October, the couple completed a successful Kickstarter campaign, raising nearly $10,000 more than their original $20,000 goal. They also recently stopped by CNBC’s Power Pitch to solicit interest their product. (Spoiler-alert: They successfully caught host Mandy Drury’s.)
The jackets, which cost $54 each, can be purchased at chemocozy.com and in select medical boutiques. To make the article of clothing even more affordable, the Hamiltons are going through the application process with Medicare and Medicaid to make it eligible for reimbursement as a non-medical device. They also plan to add more products to their brand, including clothing for children and for dialysis patients.
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Watch This Flash Mob Give the Best Of Their Love
When Amy Wagner was told she had stage 3C ovarian cancer, the news sent shock waves throughout her family. Despite the terminal diagnosis, Wagner remained incredibly positive, going by her motto: Dum vivimus vivamus or, “While we live, let us live.”
In the spirit of making the most of her days, Wagner’s daughter, Lauren Keppel, decided to surprise her mother by organizing a flash mob to show her how much she’s loved. The entire routine and Wagner’s reaction can be seen below. As the description with the video reads, “Amy has been an indelible force in the lives of so many people; as we all bare witness to her pain, I wanted to find a way to remind her how surrounded she is by support. ”
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As Today.com reports, when Keppel sent out an email to her friends and family soliciting dancers, replies came pouring in. A total of 50 people — from Utah, to Indiana, to California — agreed to travel to Wheaton, Illinois on May 10 (the day before her Wagner’s birthday) to surprise her with a choreographed dance to “The Best of My Love” by the Emotions.
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The incredible gesture left Wagner speechless. “It is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me,” she told Today. “I just love them all so much. I am really, really blessed.”
How did they pull it off? After Keppel and a friend sent each person a video of the routine, each dancer was responsible for practicing the dance at home.
The effort was all worth it, as Keppel said, “The impact she has had on the people in her life is tremendous and I wanted to be able to show her that in a cumulative, grander way.”