GIRL GETS STRUCK WITH YET ANOTHER MEDICAL MYSTERY.
That’s what my life’s headline read Friday morning. I have been sidetracked by yet another health issue – “issue” in this case means gross flesh eating disease on a bride’s most prized possession… her FACE.
Early last week I noticed a rather odd looking bump pop up on my cheek. I didn’t think it was a blemish… and trust me, this chocolate eating, combination skinned, stressed gal knows a zit when she sees one. This was different.
If you know me, I’m a “doer.” I don’t sit around and wait for something to happen… I get up and MAKE it happen. So naturally I decided to investigate this painful mystery bump, which was unobtrusively flesh toned at this point. A minor poke and prod resulted in a MAJOR problem…
The once camouflaged bump turned black and stood out like a hunter in an orange vest. What’s worse is that a stark white rim started to surround the site and it looked like I went to the carnival and had a bulls eye painted on my cheek by a drunk PTA volunteer.
Absolute panic sunk in. Start crying ……. NOW.
Yes, I cried. If you have read my past medical entries, you know I’m one tough cookie. Lose a finger? Argh. Break a toe? Boo. Maul my face? WAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!! There is just something about my face that you don’t want to mess with… it has been the only part of my body that hasn’t jumped on the “freaky disease” bandwagon with the rest of my body parts.
So here I am. Eyes puffy, mascara running and flesh eating disease flaring. With my strong reaction you would have thought I was walking down the aisle that next day, but even knowing that my big day is 5 months down the road, I couldn’t stop picturing myself in my gorgeous wedding gown accessorized with this massive tumor-like sore on my face. In my dreams, the sore comes with its own neon sign to emphasize its hideousness.
I naturally have all my doctors on speed dial and immediately scored an emergency appointment that following day.
The verdict? A ruptured cyst. But not just any ruptured cyst, an infected, ruptured cyst. [Insert vomiting noises now.]
How does one develop a cyst? Who knows? Who cares? I heard the doctor mumble something about cysts being potentially stressed induced, but I was too worried thinking about the future of my face that I didn’t really hear what she said.
Even though my face looked just as hideous walking out of the doctor’s office as it did on the way in, I felt a sense of relief once I was prescribed medication that will treat me from the inside out. And after a few weeks of major healing, my cyst will fade away and take its neon sign with it.
Moral of the story? There really isn’t one, but let me have a go at it.... when something doesn't seem right, don't try to fix it right away, investigate it first... gently. I often times jump the gun with my "go get 'em" attitude and if I had only thought before I popped, I wouldn't have a gross scab on my face. [Again, insert vomiting noises.]
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