There is still the matter of walking through cobwebs. Not literally, of course. Even with my spotty cleaning , spiders have the decency to hide in corners. It’s like something fine and hair-like is touching my face– a ticklish, itchy sensation–forehead, eyelids, eyebrows. Nothing serious–just annoying.
Diagnoses from two dermatologists and an impressive array of cremes and potions have done little except clog my medicine shelf and leave my checkbook smoking. Therefore, I have decided to diagnose myself: SUS. Without a doubt. Screwed Up Skin.
My brother, who also inherited the SUS gene , was referred by his doctor to a university hospital. Like me, he has to have frequent skin checks and occasional biopsies. The new dermatologist gave him three medications–one for his face, on which she drew a little face for clarification. . . one for his knee, with a little leg drawn on that label, and one for his chest, with another identifying drawing. Quite multi-talented, those university doctors. He says he forgot to show her his elbow. Next time. That should almost complete his portrait.
I was jealous, not because he’s getting classy artwork, but because that means he’s getting free samples. Since I don’t, I’m checking out home remedies before I give a dermatologist another donation. I’m a sucker for home remedies, (says she who gets Canadian Preparation H to prevent bags under her eyes because the USA stuff doesn’t have the magic ingredient.)
A friend suggested emu oil for my itchy skin. I admit that I did not order the brand she specified, so that may be why my emu applications are not doing the trick. I’ve decided to supplement that treatment with something I read about in the People’s Pharmacy: using milk of magnesia as a lotion. Never mind that the guy who recommended it was treating Seborrheic dermatitis which is, I think, dandruff. I’m trying it, my forehead being right under my hair and everything–close enough. Also, milk of magnesia was on sale for $2.99. Maybe that’s the difference in the emu oil. Perhaps my friend’s emu had been rubbed with milk of magnesia.
For the last three nights I’ve rubbed milk of magnesia on my face and I’ve been pleased with the results. Of course it hasn’t cured the itching, but it gives me a little mini-facial and dries to feel mask-like, so I’m thinking no new wrinkles can sneak in while I sleep. And who knows. . . maybe in time it’ll enable me to cut back on fiber tablets.
Dearly Beloved doesn’t need to know about this. Hemorrhoid cream under my eyes is bad enough. The poor man might wonder which end is up. I’m keeping the lights low in hopes that he can’t see my chalky face when I crawl into bed.
Morticia Addams? Michael Jackson? Just me, Dear. . . The Joker.