Adventures in Skin and Self-Care (Blog #211)

Praise the lord. I’ve actually felt better today–not perfect, but better. Maybe it’s the new sinus irrigation technique I started last night, or maybe it’s the fact that I used my dad voice with my immune system in yesterday’s blog. It’s time you start pulling your weight around here, young man. Either way, I’ve had less crud today, haven’t been coughing as much, and have had more energy. Maybe I’m not going to die after all and am headed in the right direction–toward recovery. I’ll let you know how it goes.

This morning I went to Johnson Dermatology in Fort Smith for my somewhat-annual checkup. A few years ago I had a case of warts (on my pretty face!) that wouldn’t go away, so I went once a month for over a year to have them burned off. (Ouch.) Anyway, the warts finally cleared up, and by the time they did, I felt like part of the furniture. I was friendly with the staff, knew where all the restrooms were, and basically had my own parking space–it was like an episode of Cheers, except with skin problems instead of nachos and beer. Anyway, going to the doctor usually makes me nervous, but today felt like going home again. Well, other than the fact that Mom and Dad don’t ask for my insurance information as soon as I walk through the front door.

My skin care wizard today was Nina, and she was super patient. When I asked about my body odor problem (which is pretty much over now) and told her all the things I tried from the internet in order to get rid of it, I think she only rolled her eyes once. Anyway, she said the problem was most likely due to the high number of antibiotics I’ve been on this year. She also said that was probably the reason I got folliculitis (inflammation of the hair follicles) around my nipples a couple of weeks ago. I mean, my being in a hot tub obviously had something to do with it, but she said my immune system and good bacteria were probably “compromised.” (Alert, there’s been a breach in security.) She also said that although my folliculitis is better, the reason it isn’t completely gone is because it’s fungal and not bacterial.

Strike one for the emergency room doctor.

So I guess for the next week or two I’ll continue rubbing cream on my nipples. Not that I’m complaining. There are certainly less enjoyable things to do in life.

I don’t know if you realized this about me, but I have a lot of moles. I know, I know–I wear them well, so this information may come as a shock. But it’s true. The doctors say I have “over fifty,” which I’m assuming qualifies as a plethora. Anyway, for as long as I can remember, the only bumpy or raised moles I’ve had have been on my head, where I and only I would notice or give a shit. Still, catching my comb on a mole drives me crazy, so I asked Nina if we could remove some today. She said yes, so now I literally have not one, but three new holes in my head.

Incidentally, they take off moles with a razor blade–uh–like the kind you buy at the hardware store to cut through carpet or a cardboard box. Granted, they numb you first, but then they just scrape your skin directly off–whoosh–slice right through it as if it were a block of hard cheese. Next thing you know either you or your insurance is considerably poorer, and something you carried around on your body for over a decade is in an envelope on its way to be analyzed at a lab in Poughkeepsie.

Like, there goes a part of me, via FedEx.

The cream Nina prescribed for my folliculitis is being mailed to me, so it won’t arrive until next week. Being the hypochondriac I am, I’m hoping my nipples won’t fall off before then. I mean, I’ve grown rather attached to them. (Or is it the other way around?) Anyway, tonight I took a shower with special soap, applied what cream I have to my nipples, then had Mom put Vaseline on the mole-holes in my head to encourage healing. I’ve had moles removed before, so this will be our routine for the next couple weeks. At first it will seem like a nuisance, then it will simply be part of our routine, and then it will be over. Perhaps one day we’ll sit and recollect about it–those two weeks I sat on the floor while Mom sat in her chair battling cancer and helping me take care of my skin.

Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

Tonight I’m reminded that things get worse and things get better. One day you wake up sick, spend two weeks feeling like crap, then at some point know you’ve turned a corner. Something about your body bothers you for years on end, then just like that it’s gone with a razor blade and the flick of a wrist. Other problems hang around–maybe they’ll be gone next week and maybe they won’t. Caroline Myss says we’re always healing something. This, of course, means that problems come and go because nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same. This also means we always have room to grow. For surely even the smallest irritations bring us into the present moment, prompt us to ask for help and connect with others, and encourage us to be more caring for ourselves.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my nipples are calling.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s not where you are, it’s whom you are there with.

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That Which Rises (Blog #194)

Well shit. Currently it’s one-thirty in the morning, and I just got back from the emergency room. When I woke up this morning, my right nipple was hurting. Honestly, I just thought it was a pimple, since sometimes that happens. But then this afternoon my other nipple (the left one) started hurting too, so I was like, That’s odd, I feel like I’m going through puberty again, I wonder if I’ll start lactating. Anyway, around midnight I took my shirt off to examine things, and the red bumps had spread to my armpits, so I thought, Houston, we have a problem. Fortunately, I didn’t freak out too much, since something similar happened about six months ago. But since I’m going out-of-town tomorrow, I did want to get it checked out, so thus the emergency room.

Anticipating a long wait, I took my laptop to the hospital and just figured I would blog while waiting. Well, sometimes life throws you a bone, and no one else was there. I mean, the staff was there, but no one was in the waiting room. Y’all, they had me back in a room in under a minute and were taking my vitals before they even asked me my name. They were awesome. The doctor was back in no time, and I quickly got a diagnosis–folliculitis, which is inflammation of the hair follicles, usually due to infection. So he gave me a pill for the night, slapped me on the ass, and sent me back home with prescriptions to fill tomorrow.

He didn’t really slap me on my ass. (That only happens in porn.)

I asked the doctor if it was a hygiene problem, and he said, “You seem like a clean person. It’s probably just bad luck.” But Google said you can get folliculitis from using a hot tub, so that’s probably it. Suffice it to say, I should probably bathe after using hot tubs and stop thinking of the hot tub itself as a bath. Lesson learned.

This afternoon the chiropractor ran ultrasound therapy on the spot in my mid back that’s been giving me shit for a few months now, and I think it’s actually helping, so that feels like a small miracle. Then I had my oil changed, and the hot guy behind the cash register kept calling me sir, so that did not feel like a small miracle. Then I met with the three ladies I’ve been working with lately for their last dance lesson before their performance this weekend. Y’all, I’m so proud of them. Today they showed up for a full dress rehearsal and they looked killer, all decked out in fishnet hose, white tails, and top hats. They’ve come SO far from where we started a few months ago. As a teacher (and just a human), it’s really rewarding to see people work their butts off for something and have it come together.

After the dance lesson, Bonnie fed me and gave me beer. The whole family gathered in the living room for dinner and conversation, and I’m not exactly sure how to describe it. I guess most the time I always have this feeling that no matter what I’m doing, I should be doing something else. My mind is go, go, go nine times out of ten. But there’s something about Bonnie and Todd’s house, whether it’s their living room or front porch, something that says, Sit down, stay a while–you can relax and be yourself. After a while, we all settled into our devices, and I borrowed their high-speed internet to work on another writing project and go ahead and download the photos for tonight’s blog.

Tomorrow I leave for a weekend, spiritual retreat of sorts in Colorado. I’ll be breaking up the drive, and I’ll keep you posted as a I go along. Thursday’s blog may look like, Drove all day, tired, and that’s about it. We’ll see. Anyway, the retreat is basically about–I think–finding that place in yourself that’s always calm and centered. My therapist says I’m “going to get enlightened,” but I’m sure that’s not really something that happens over the course of three days and two nights. (I’m sure she doesn’t think that either.) Whatever happens, I’ll let you know how it goes, but now I’m all nervous and wondering how I’m going to get everything done before I leave and how I’ll have time to blog every day.

I’m taking the nerves as confirmation that I’m still in need of enlightenment, and therefore not wasting my time and money.

For the longest time I used to think that getting sick was some sort of personal failure. Maybe since I was a teenager, it’s always felt like if I ate better, exercised more, and didn’t “sin” so much (whatever that means), I’d be healthier. Consequently, going to the doctor was a problem because not only did I feel sick and vulnerable, I also felt–well–guilty. Thankfully, these thoughts and feelings have seriously subsided over the last few years. I mean, I certainly believe I have a huge role in the health of my body, but I also believe shit happens. Tonight at the emergency room, more than anything, I felt grateful–I walked right in, had wonderful care, and got answers. And people smiled at me.

This, of course, is not a little thing.

It seems to me that healing happens in little pieces. You spend most your life feeling afraid and even cynical, maybe for good reason. Life, after all, can be a real bitch sometimes. But then one day you wake up, and even if your nipples hurt, you still think the world is a good place to live. Or maybe you start at zero with a dance routine, and every time you move your body it feels like a question mark. Week after week you work, then finally things click, and you’re ready to light up the stage. So many times I think that life is some sort of dress rehearsal for something bigger, but the show is clearly right here, right now. (It’s not where we’re going, it’s how we get there.) On this stage you and I are not so different–we smile, we stumble, we get back up again. I’m starting to believe that deep down there’s a part of us that’s always calm and centered, confident in the knowledge that we can relax and be ourselves wherever we go. If we’re lucky, this part rises.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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