I live in the southernmost state of Australia (gets pretty cold here, heading into winter so my jealousy is surely with the Americans). Anyway, had majority of my family on the mainland, which is where you'll find the tropics, deserts, wild bush-fires and 45 degree Celsius heat all day long. So, as a kid I would visit them every year, always in summer...

Now I believe I was 10 years old on this particular occasion, and I must telll you it was without a doubt the most painful experience of my life.

Mid summer, i spent a day at a beach east of Melbourne (not the hottest point in Aus, but shit), coated myself from head to toe in sunscreen twice during an 6-8 hour period running in and out of the water with occasional shade from an umbrella. Reasonably cautious about it overall, my father and grandparents thought so too. Well later that night, I can't sleep. Vomiting from sunstroke, head's bobbing up and down like I've acquired a permanent seasickness, the feeling one might have after a bottle of scotch in an hour and at that age I thought i was dying.... But then the sunburn comes in to it... Not until the next day did I know I'd been burnt, it lurked and then pounced like a motherfucker, crippling my upper body. I arrived home after a short painful flight about 24 hours after leaving the beach, and just remember crying myself to sleep for two nights with pillows propped under me to keep my back arched before going to hospital.

My back was covered in blisters, I'd given myself second degree burns and some were bigger than my fists, combined! Sensitive and full of puss.. And this is where things get fucked up. After inhaling a nice dose of gas I woke up wrapped in bandages like a mummy, a sticky cream bonding them to my freshly squeezed, blistery folds of skin. Two days later I'm back in hospital to get the bandages off, without gas :( Nurses remove these with some pain (only around the 6 or 7 mark), and much yelling. But next came a decision I will question definitely unless Reddit could prove me wrong, but could not ever forgive... My tender young back was lathered in yet another medical crem'e, by which point I remember fighting and begging them to stop after what seemed like an hour of application (pain at 10, the feeling I compare nothing to), so when the call was made to "just easily slip on..." my favorite Homer Simpson t-shirt I wanted to get the hell out.... Now guys, guys this, is my least memorable part of the story. Imagine red-raw skin only just thinking about repairing itself, still slightly attached to your body but like a sock will stick to a burst foot blister, my shirt was a second skin like cardboard, and fused with my own. Shirt removal took a couple long hours, with my mum making cuts from top to bottom and peeling it away to reveal what looked like damned special effects make-up...

That was one hell of a week....

TLDR: Cut my fave shirt off with scissors after it bonded to loose skin on my back. Second degree burn from the sun and two hospital visits despite responsible adult supervision. Be careful this summer everyone....