Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Roids and ru
Turning 30 has brought with it some wondrous and some most annoying things ever. The experience of the 30 has been overall more enjoyable than not, but what else it has brought on is a whole new monster that is both exasperating and distracting. Just a little over a month ago I got this wicked nasty rash on my neck. Now, I am not a fan of things touching my neck and this includes necklaces and the winter turtleneck, but not men (and hadn't had one on my neck in a while) so for a rash to break out there presents some concern as I hadn't changed any eating, washing, or any other habits for that matter. I am a scratcher. Make it bleed and the itch will stop. As a child I had no nails so anything I could stab through that mosquito bite the better. Wait, better yet, let's rug burn it so that the entire surface area around it is so raw that it burns to the touch. Now add alcohol. Great! So long as it doesn't itch anymore. I have scars across my body from picking, scratching, nicking, or whatever and I can handle it. I am still a scratcher and the one thing that I've gained over the years other than maturity to know that scratching the shit out of something only makes it more susceptible to germs and diseases is the fact that I now have nails. For this reason I am most concerned because I am unable to stop myself from scratching in my sleep. I will take that scratch down to the end of the itch. I don't do meds, so while on a trip to NYC with my ailing mother a few weeks ago, we picked up three different types of cream/ointment/sprays and none of them worked the way I needed. One night, I woke up and found myself just scratching the living shit out of my feet. Even with open flesh wounds the spray Benadryl burned only slightly, but went right back to itching. My mother awoke and suggested that I pour some gin on the problem areas. Surprisingly, the gin (poured for my homeys, my feet) worked like magic. I was able to sleep. The problem though is that I can't be pouring gin on my feet or any other itching area every time it needs the relief, so I had to break down and ask my doctor for help (after returning to Chicago a week and 1/2 later). She was stumped so she put me on Prednizone and up until two days ago, I didn't know it was indeed a steroid. I felt great! All my skin problems cleared up and my skin was the clearest and smoothest it has been on record. Every skin problem I had seemed to clear up and I even stopped sneezing (which started when I quit smoking). About two weeks ago I woke up feeling like a bus hit me. I just attributed it to the road trip. Yesterday, I had blurred vision, major bones aching, muscle tension, nausea, and heartburn. WTF? I finally called my doctor to see WTF? and she said it was the withdrawal from the steroid. Not doing meds is almost the equivalent to not doing doctors and even though I had just read the side effects for the prednizone, I called my doc to verify because I actually trust her opinion. She has now referred me to an allergist. Great, another fucking doctor. I've never been so much as asked to be allergy tested and just assumed that I was not allergic to anything until I quit smoking and turned 30. Where are the doctors like this one that care? Why do I sound like I'm living off Social Security? Happy Halloween.
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