A Perfect Storm

The Saga of my lovely complexion continues...

To be honest, I am quite tired of talking about my face. I've been telling the same story over ad infinitum. The irony is that I want more people to ask, since I am also quite tired of feeling like the elephant man. Yeah, that burqa sure would come in handy.

I did mention the allergy, its Night of the Living Dead like reaction, and the bacteria that decided to have a party on my wasteland of a face. Well that bacteria happened to invite their hardcore friends, the Streptococcocals. Oh yeah. And did they ever rock the house. I realized that I was starting to swell in very weird places: the top half of my forehead for instance. Half red and swollen and the other half seemingly normal. Then I noticed that behind both ears became swollen and painful. And then these weird welts developed on my scalp. That's not mentioning my mustache of impetigo, which also stretched down one side of my check. When I make reference to Night of the Living Dead, I am not exaggerating...all that much. Impetigo. This was a taboo illnesses when I was a kid. I am being punished for "Corpse Porn"...I just know it.

I was very freaked out. After a series of panic attacks, I was sent to the ER by my sister and mother, who figured that I either needed some antibiotics or some valium...or both.

The ER waiting room was my worst nightmare. It was full of people, (as every ER is these days) I had that moment of ultimate paranoia. There was a split second when all eyes locked on my rotting skin. (Enter burqa fantasy). People had been waiting there since 3:00 in the afternoon (I arrived shortly after 8). When I was called in at 9:30, I was rather surprised to find out that my chart was prioritized. That meant I was sick! Who knew!?

Within minutes I was hooked up to an IV having antibiotics pumped right into my bloodstream.
There was no valium, just two more trips to the ER for the treatment. And thats two more doctors, plus my family doctor whom I have had to rehash the same old story. The saline lock stuck in my hand for those two days at least allowed me to wave my hand and have attention drawn away from the mess below my nose. The Saline lock makes changing diapers a whole new experience.

Since then, I've needed to deal with this persistent paranoia that people recoil in horror and disgust at the sight of my Make-up experiment gone horribly awry. I avoid eye contact at all time...oh the vanity karma I am reaping!! I did have the pleasure to placing an emergency phone call to my husband, who is stuck somewhere in the middle of the desert in Texas. Yes, if he cannot be here to help in the biggest health crisis I've had since childbirth...well he can damn well feel guilty about it.

So...that's my sorry story. I'm now on to antibiotics in pill form. Progress! Healing is slow and steady. The speed of healing is directly proportional to the number of times I need to be in public. I have been to the pharmacy every day this week, not to mention the hours spent in waiting rooms, and all those damn people who are EVERYWHERE. If I wore a bandana over my nose do you suppose I'd make others feel nervous? (More about their possessions than their health I suppose) "Stick em up! Or I'll wipe myself on you!"

(Allergy to makeup) X (2 days with a sore throat and body aches) = A perfect Storm.