Very special skin. It makes me want to kick Mother Nature in the nuts.
As I’ve mentioned, in my teen years, I took meds and smeared creams all over my face. And it helped. Some.
It wasn’t only break-outs, though. Just generally ickiness. Remember those Saturday Night Live “Delta Delta Delta” sketches? In one, the sorority sisters meet a new rushee, and after she leaves, the girls are talking shit about her. Pretty sure it’s Roseanne Barr who says, “Could her pores have been any bigger?” I can’t tell you how aware of my gigantic pores I became in that moment.
My skin got better as I got older. Never beautiful. But tolerable. Zits, yes, but persistent acne? No. Painful blemishes, yes, but eh, I could deal. Especially if it meant not giving up sugar, which those bastards Joe and Terry Graedon told me to do.
Then a few months ago, I started breaking out worse than ever. Like, pimples in the crease of my neck. On my jawline. On that bone behind my ears? On my eyelidsareyoufuckingkiddingme?
I thought, Maybe it’s my face wash, so I tried different ones. No change. Detergent? Went back to Arm & Hammer. No dice. My shampoo or conditioner? Nope.
I finally asked Facebook for dermatologist recommendations. As soon as I booked an appointment with one, I got to thinking. What had I been doing for the last few months that was different from before?
Well, I had been taking fish oil capsules…? Googled ‘fish oil and acne’, and while a lot of the reviews said fish oil could help get rid of acne, a few people said it made things worse.
I stopped taking fish oil, and my skin indeed started looking better.
I decided to keep my appointment to see the dermatologist anyway because my skin was never perfect, and maybe this could help.
Let me ask you, how long after your appointment do you consider it reasonable to be seen by a doctor? Because 20 minutes, I can tolerate, but 45 minutes makes me want to kick somebody in the nuts.
Moreover, the doc started telling me what we were going to do before she even looked at my skin, and then only for—seriously—less than a second. Two topical prescription medications. $25 for one, $30 the other. Copay: $60.
I’m telling you, if I don’t look like Cate Blanchett after this, somebody’s nuts are getting kicked.