Thanks Dr. Levitt
For as long as I can remember I had this growing rash that covered my face. My earliest memories of school consist of me scratching the corners of my eyes, down the side of my face, around the contours of my ears and my scalp. Of course my pediatrician prescribed a cream, an ointment that smelled like old people, which was slathered on multiple times a day.
The rash would come and go as it pleased. There was no real rhyme or reason, and no matter how many test were run, there was never any name or explanation for what it is.
The summer before I began junior high, I went to see my first general practitioner who gave me a sample tube of ointment that her office received from a pharmaceutical company and instructed me to apply. She had no idea that what she gave me was the first thing that cleared�cleared�cleared my face.
I started junior high with perfect skin.
All of the kids that I knew from first grade (most of us graduated from high school together as well, as is the way of small towns) couldn�t even remember the rash. When I referenced it in senior high, no one could recall me ever having a rash that covered parts of my face.
I guess that speaks to personality and the fact that we stop seeing things. We get to know people and become blind to disabilities and flaws.
I still have a tube with me at all times, this morning the corner of my eye looked red and was painful to the touch. Clear advance warnings of an impending breakout. The other side affect of the cream is that the steroid compound eliminates all footholds of acne. Because I was slathering it all over my face I never had a single pimple all through high school. Now that I don�t use the cream in such quantity I will get the occasional spot where I can feel the pimple growing. Simply applying a little cream at night ensures that I don�t have to worry; the next morning all evidence of acne has ceased.
As great as that little tube of cream was, and I am beyond grateful for the results, the remedy for my skin never was able to make its way to my thoughts. To this day when someone comments on my skin or my looks, I still feel like that girl who never made eye contact with anything other than the carpet, the girl whose hair was always long enough to hide her face, the girl whose face was splotches of angry pink rash and olive skin. Some things just can�t be remedied.