The Wonderful World of Medicine
Yeah, so anyone who has seen my face will know (and I'm sorry to blow a dream if you haven't) that I still have pimples though I've reached the ripe age of 31. What's worse? I've had pimples, sometimes I think the same damn ones, since I was 13. So, let's see, if we do the math, cross out the three, make it a two, 1 becomes 11 and then it's 8, and 1 okay, that's 18 fucking years. Yeah. For 18 years of my life, I've had pimples. Fun.
People don't get how much it sucks. It's embarrassing to have marks on your face. When you have food or shmeg stuck to your cheek, usually a nice friend will slyly signal to you that you might want to... just... get... a little higher... yeah, get it off. Same with spinach in your teeth, or mascara running off your eyes. When you have pimples, I maintain, the same instinct applies. Friends want to encourage you to get it off, but of course, there is no way to get it off except to angrily wait for the healing process to complete, and to resist picking dry skin and covering it with oily fingers or slapping it in disgust because you're 31 and you really shouldn't be suffering through this any longer.
It also hurts. Sometimes it aches. It's a wound, on your face. And it bleeds. It's also somewhat shameful because lots of folks think that I just don't wash. Well, I wash. I wash more than anybody I know, except the few others I have met in my life who also still get pimples in their 30s. As a group, adults with acne probably use a pretty decent share of the world water supply on their faces.
I went to a doctor yesterday. I sat down. And then I waited for 20 minutes. The doctor, Dr. Binstock, (I have no interest in preserving his anonymity since he was so friggin' unhelpful), said, "you're here for acne?" I said yes. He said, "take antibiotics and that will do it." And then he started to leave the room. "No no no no, that's not going to work. I have 18 years experience in this field. How much time have you been dealing with acne? Antibiotics are not going to work for me, and neither are the following treatments." And I listed every remedy currently known to and used by humans, whether they live in America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, India, Africa. Dr. Binstock, maybe impatient to get back to his People magazine with those pricey Brangelina spawn pix, had his hand on the doorknob while he said, "if you want to keep your acne, then you don't have to listent to me."
So, I cried. And I left. I had three prescriptions for medicine that didn't work the first two times I tried them. I also got doxycycline so you can count on me to stand up to cholera, malaria and chlamydia with one or two less pimples. I cried to the front desk who finally offered some help. They said, "it doesn't look bad you know." But that was all they had. I can have facials, scrubs, light therapy, water therapy, whatever, but nothing is likely to stop my face from erupting daily. Well, there it is. I'll report back in another 18 years to see if there's been any progress.
People don't get how much it sucks. It's embarrassing to have marks on your face. When you have food or shmeg stuck to your cheek, usually a nice friend will slyly signal to you that you might want to... just... get... a little higher... yeah, get it off. Same with spinach in your teeth, or mascara running off your eyes. When you have pimples, I maintain, the same instinct applies. Friends want to encourage you to get it off, but of course, there is no way to get it off except to angrily wait for the healing process to complete, and to resist picking dry skin and covering it with oily fingers or slapping it in disgust because you're 31 and you really shouldn't be suffering through this any longer.
It also hurts. Sometimes it aches. It's a wound, on your face. And it bleeds. It's also somewhat shameful because lots of folks think that I just don't wash. Well, I wash. I wash more than anybody I know, except the few others I have met in my life who also still get pimples in their 30s. As a group, adults with acne probably use a pretty decent share of the world water supply on their faces.
I went to a doctor yesterday. I sat down. And then I waited for 20 minutes. The doctor, Dr. Binstock, (I have no interest in preserving his anonymity since he was so friggin' unhelpful), said, "you're here for acne?" I said yes. He said, "take antibiotics and that will do it." And then he started to leave the room. "No no no no, that's not going to work. I have 18 years experience in this field. How much time have you been dealing with acne? Antibiotics are not going to work for me, and neither are the following treatments." And I listed every remedy currently known to and used by humans, whether they live in America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, India, Africa. Dr. Binstock, maybe impatient to get back to his People magazine with those pricey Brangelina spawn pix, had his hand on the doorknob while he said, "if you want to keep your acne, then you don't have to listent to me."
So, I cried. And I left. I had three prescriptions for medicine that didn't work the first two times I tried them. I also got doxycycline so you can count on me to stand up to cholera, malaria and chlamydia with one or two less pimples. I cried to the front desk who finally offered some help. They said, "it doesn't look bad you know." But that was all they had. I can have facials, scrubs, light therapy, water therapy, whatever, but nothing is likely to stop my face from erupting daily. Well, there it is. I'll report back in another 18 years to see if there's been any progress.
posted by your friend at Thursday, June 15, 2006
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