Oncologist warns: melanoma cases surge as spring UV radiation peaks

María Quindós, an oncologist at the university hospital complex in A Coruña, has watched melanoma cases climb steadily across Spain. The numbers tell the story: roughly 8,000 new diagnoses each year now, making it the tenth most common cancer in the country. What troubles her most is not just the rise itself, but when it happens—and how unprepared people seem to be.

Right now, in late May, ultraviolet radiation is climbing into the dangerous zone. The daily index has crossed above 8, which meteorologists classify as "very high." This is the moment when skin damage accelerates, yet many people still think of sun danger as a summer problem. Quindós sees this disconnect constantly. Patients arrive in her clinic having spent spring weekends outdoors without protection, assuming the risk peaks only when the thermometer climbs. They are wrong. The sun's ultraviolet rays don't care whether it feels warm. They penetrate cloud cover. They accumulate across seasons. And the damage they do in May can manifest as cancer decades later.

The disease itself is deceptive in appearance. Melanoma can take many forms and colors, which is why doctors teach patients the ABC rule: look for lesions that are asymmetrical, that change shape or color, that grow, that itch, or that fail to heal. A new spot on the skin, or an old mole that suddenly starts changing—either warrants a visit to a primary care doctor. The distinction matters because early detection transforms outcomes. More than 90 percent of melanomas caught in early stages can be cured. In Spain in 2024, the disease killed 1,195 people, but its real burden falls differently than other cancers: it strikes people younger, stealing more years of life from those diagnosed.

The risk profile is well understood. Fair skin, intense sun exposure, childhood sunburns—these are the foundations. But Quindós emphasizes something many people overlook: the damage done in youth echoes forward. A child who suffers three or more severe sunburns carries an elevated risk for decades. The skin remembers. Intermittent but intense exposure—the kind that happens on vacations, at the beach, during outdoor summers—compounds the danger. And there is another culprit that deserves more attention: tanning beds. Used by young adults, they increase melanoma risk by up to 60 percent. The International Agency for Research on Cancer classified them as Group 1 carcinogens because the ultraviolet intensity they emit is 10 to 15 times stronger than natural sunlight.

Geography creates a false sense of security. In Galicia, where clouds dominate and sunny days are fewer than in southern Spain, people often assume their risk is lower. Quindós pushes back against this assumption. Awareness has grown, she notes, thanks to patient advocacy groups and medical professionals speaking up. But the message needs reinforcement: latitude does not grant immunity. Prevention matters everywhere.

The treatment landscape is changing. Melanoma now involves multidisciplinary teams—primary care doctors, dermatologists, oncologists working together through tumor committees. The approach is more sophisticated than it was a decade ago. Yet prevention remains the most powerful tool. Quindós's advice is straightforward: use sunscreen year-round, not just in summer. Reapply it regularly from spring through early autumn. Watch your skin for changes and report them quickly. And understand that tanning beds are not a safe alternative to natural sun—they are a documented risk.

The spring surge in UV radiation is happening now. The window for prevention is open. What happens in these next few months, in the seemingly mild weather before summer arrives, will shape skin health for years to come.