Rash Bash 2008
Went to the Dermatologist. He loved me. I felt completely exploited while he took pictures, (all too excitedly,) of my arms and legs and feet and hands... and as he chose which part of the rash to biopsy... where to leave behind two little stitches. (And for the record, my inner thigh is NOT the "place least likely to annoy me," GENIUS.) Maybe for a person with twig legs, but these two thighs touch each other... in fact, they are good friends, and sometimes they flat out make out.
I took out my dad's stitches once when I was little, so I know how, and I can see that I'm healed and I think- shhh, don't tell Shaun, (he thinks I'm nuts)- that I might be sneaking them out myself as soon as I can buy scissors small enough...
Anyway, the Derm seemed to lean toward Guttate Psoraisis. He said it can be chronic. He said if it was, our treatment might be limited with my fair skin and with as wide spread as it was but let's just wait two weeks and go from there. TWO. WEEKS. I have already waited SIX weeks, two more seems like an eternity, but yeah, okay...
He was a real Pollyanna, that guy.
Right then I knew that some tears would go down, but could I hold it together till I got to the car? The nurse's empathy didn't help. Be strong, be STRONG... eeerrrrr. I growled inside my head for motivation and clenched my teeth like Rocky.
I made it to the car and called Shaun and the sound of his sweet voice might as well have been a megaphone commanding the floodgates to open. Poor guy thought I had been diagnosed with Lymphoma for sure because I couldn't even pull it together to say hello. Silence, while my chest bobbed and nothing came out. And I'm not really a crier. Seriously. I'm not.
I pulled it together enough to tell him I wasn't dying, and then I had to sob like a baby a few more times. I said, "you know, I've tried to be a good sport, I've thought 'well it's all relative, my health is generally good, it's no big deal,'" But I forgot that I was human and humans have to- occasionally- you know, be human. And part of being human is having emotions and ups and downs. So I threw myself a big pity party and Shaun was an awesome guest.
I called my Uncle R. when I got home (plastic surgeon) and he tried to lift my spirits and remind me that I was told "CAN be chronic" and that the doctor was doing the right things. I called my friend Jennifer who has, ironically, come down with the SAME thing, Guttate Psoraisis, and we're going to start a support group, so I think I'll get through...
Spent the weekend at the Springs and Gaylord Palms shooting sessions, so there's plenty of work to distract me. Two weeks will fly by- as they always have since having Evan.
But in the meantime, my Aveeno bath calls. Thanks for listening. If you made it this far, you are a better person than me. I would've tuned you out by now.
