Saturday, February 8, 2014

don't read while eating

I have never had good skin. I inherited this condition from generations of sweaty pimply Germans. One dermatololgist told me my body was a textbook for skin disorders, I've had everything. I'm a receptacle for pus. I'm an ongoing factory spewing out old dead white cells, my pores ooze the stuff all the time.

Not to spoil your appetite, but this is my world and my shower cubicle is packed with green tea stringents, oil-erasing and grease- eradicating soaps, alcohol-based bars promising to dry up and dry out.  I live to exfoliate but it never did a damn bit of good.

But this is something brand new I find sprouting out of my face. The thing is red, hard and spreading and it's taking on a life of its own, I swear I hear it whispering to me late at night, o-o-oh my pet, my precious. It reminds me of early John Lennon drawings, a little head with little legs, an entity unto itself, my lost fetal twin, a bit of bone and tooth and hair threatening to take over my face.
I lay on the couch, tossing and feverish, dreaming about old bad boyfriends and good drugs and I see my husband's worried face above me, "why do you keep checking on me?" I scream, "I'm all right, leave me alone!" I'm not, but I won't know that until later.

Damn, it's MRSA, that scary antibiotic-resistant monster bug. You have a MRSA furuncle, says Megan, the physician's assistant, referring to the growth on my cheek pretty much the size of a fried egg.  A furry uncle, yes I have several of those and this is the best name they could come up with?  Oh, and by the way Megan, why was my case not deemed important enough to see a real doctor?  Granted, it's not skin cancer but it's ugly enough to make my husband back away from me, his hand over his mouth, trying not to breathe the same air. The thing is weeping like an under-milked cow.

 End result is this, I get some pretty serious antibiotics and a week off work and a good excuse to haunt dark, lowly illuminated bars. Nobody must see the mess that is me.

1 comment:

Arizaphale said...

Doesn't sound good.