As I told my curious reader in the comments of Is the Universe Working Against Me?, I am going to see a dermatologist today. Well, I went.
The hospital was enormous and it was probably the second largest hospital I’ve ever been to, the first was the University of Utah Hospital when I went in for my jaw surgery consultation. It took me a while for me to find the dermatology clinic which was tucked in the back.
I got called in very fast and within 5 minutes, I was greeted by the doctor. It was one of the shortest waits ever for an appointment. I bet I knew what the doctor’s first impression of me was. This little Asian girl sitting in the corner with her tablet. Where are her parents? Does she speak English?
The doctor asked if I spoke English and if I needed an interpreter. I politely declined. I am an interpreter myself and for an interpreter to need an interpreter, that’s funny. I laughed mentally at that joke while she examined my face.
Less than a minute later, she threw a name at me, “Rosacea”. I was like what? “It’s most likely it’s brought on by your thyroid.” She explained. “And you might have the rare form called Pyroderma Faciale.”
Great, just when I thought my thyroid is under control, it’s gone psychotic again. I pointed out I got some blood work done and my doctor still hasn’t given me a call back and she said she was telling me based on blood work. “Oh,” was all I could say as she began tossing prescription names at her assistant.
Low-dosage antibiotic, face cream, and topical cream, all have to be mailed to me. I guess I’ll add that to my growing collection of prescription medication.
I am to return to see her at the end of this month (September) and she said if I’m not better then, she’ll have to biopsy my face. No!
I was like “aren’t you sure?” But no doctors are sure of anything, are they? They just have their patients be guinea pigs and try pill after pill until they’re cure. At least this doctor didn’t throw the “c” word at me.
I guess now I’ll be good and take my medication and pray that in three weeks, I’ll be all better and the doctor won’t have to take a knife to my face. Hence, the waiting game begins.
I’ll keep you updated as this thing progresses.