I used some of my Lifetime bucks (I got $100 for signing up in October to use for services at the club) to get a facial and pedicure on Thursday. The facial felt so good that I was planning on scheduling my next one very very soon. The pedicure was divine. I felt so pampered...so pleasant...
Until around 4pm. I asked the boys if I was turning red. The looks of horror should have been a clue. From my chest up--because a facial includes your upper chest, arms, face, neck, back, ears, hairline--I was tomato red. Powergirl fuscia. And that was the good part.
I took benadryl immediately after serving dinner to the family. I am such a good, self-sacrificing mother that I was worried about the nutritional state of my family over my own trek into fire skin. I couldn't take the benadryl sooner because it would knock me out. God, I wish it had knocked me out immediately!
By 9pm I was completely deformed. Not only was I red on all bodily surfaces from the chest up, I was also swelling. Swelling like I've never seen myself swell before. My eyes were slits. I didn't have bags under my eyes, I had a full set of hot pink luggage. Yes, I had rolls under my eyes. It was rather unattractive.
Jim offered to take me to the ER, but I said I would tough it out. And take more benadryl.
Jim was off work on Friday, so he took me to the convenient care. I couldn't get into the dermatologist until Monday and my internist didn't have an appointment until late afternoon. The convenient care sounded...well, it sounded convenient!
We sat for three and a half hours in a waiting room filled with sick people. Luckily the lady sitting right next to me just needed an antibiotic for her dermatitis, so she wasn't contagious.
First, the nurse was horrified at the amount of benadryl I was taking. I know that if two pills are good, three have to be better. She said three would make me never wake up. Frankly, as bad as I felt Thursday night the thought of being in some type of short-term coma was welcomed.
Second, the doctor I finally saw was chortling when she came into the room because the same exact thing had happened to her. She apologized for laughing, but that didn't stop her. She kept shaking her head and giggling. I was too weak to even smack her. Her prescription: more benadryl!
Dammit! If I knew I was only going to get benadryl, I would have skipped the visit. When this has happened in the past I've gotten a shot in the butt and a prednisone med pack. Seriously, my eyes were swollen shut. I deserved drugs!
I have quite a colorful (yes, pun intended) history of skin rashes. I have seen the best ER that Pittsburg, Kansas, has to offer. They provided shot and meds. Kelly and I have spent a drive on one of our adventures watching the skin on my arms turn red and dot up because of the sun. I no longer use Bath & Body Works products because of the rash they caused.
All of this has lead to the jokes about muumuus and burkhas. I mean, I can't go in the sun because I get a rash. I can take a shower because I get a rash. I can't eat spicy food because I get a rash. I am destined to wear the burkha and eat oatmeal for the rest of my life!
I am pretty much recovered now. I went back into the pool yesterday and nothing burned. I got my hair cut today and opted only for high lights. Hair dye would probably cause my scalp to bubble and cause baldness.
I just can't win! Thank God I find the humor in everything or this really might send me over the cliff!