face woes and other desperations

Sunday, may. 22, 2005   |   0 comments

The last few weeks have been a hell of skin rash battling. Apparently I have Perioral Dermatitis (and those photos are totally accurate, that’s very much EXACTLY what I look like, i.e., not the cutest, no, not at all, like maybe take a few weeks off there, lady, stay at home, take a load off, we’re trying to eat here?). And my case is really bad because I (over)used steroid cream (which I had laying around from the first time I had this rash), so now my skin is addicted to steroids, and each time I try to wean myself off it my face lashes out in blistering, peeling, reddened roid rage. And there really isn’t much to do, other than let my face suffer through the detox (oh and switch to a shampoo and toothpaste without laurel sulfates, a tip from my lovely and similarly rashy friend Rebekah). As my new dermatologist said: “You’re in for a bad week [yay], but we should have you looking better, not completely healed but better, by your birthday. And then we can get to work on your chronic acne and pigmentation problems [I have chronic acne and pigmentation problms? Yay?].” Considering that my birthday isn’t until deep into June, and considering I’ve already had the rash for almost three months now, well, altogether it’s a dark and sad time here inside the room behind my smile. Also it’s a time of endless insta-outfit-crazying hats (despite an extreme sensitivity to sun, thanks to antibiotics the doctor put me on, which incidentally make me feel perpetually tipsy, I can’t wear sunblock because I’m not supposed to put anything on my face, nothing except “cold milk compresses,” which are indeed soothing, but cause my house to smell very lactational indeed).

Anyway, so the face thing, and also I’ve doing the weekly Desperate Housewives recapping for Television Without Pity — relatedly, note my crazily obsessive and compulsive and yet somehow still inaccurate quote (Mrs. Huber didn’t know Mary Alice nee Angela in Utah, her sister Felicia did) in today’s Philadelphia Inquirer (registration required) — which is surprisingly all-consuming in that when I’m not working, my free time is completely Desperate, just typing and rewinding, typing and rewinding, typing and rewinding. But respite is on its way: the season finale is tonight, god damn it! Perfectly timed for a very special TV night in celebration of Jill‘s birthday. Whooop, Jill’s home! Cake, cake, cake.