Flares Up: My Red Face is Not Rosacea
Trigger Warning for My Comrades-in-Eczema
My inbox received what should be a welcome new message. A job opportunity for four non-consecutive weeks traveling the UK, Europe, and Mexico. The first trip was scheduled only four days later. I'm aware I’m in a can't-say-no freelance climate, and the job sounded really cool. But, I had just completed my last freelance gig, returning home at 2 am after delayed flights and too many cocktails in the Sky Club. I was happy to take a week off to clean up the garden I’d neglected. When the email came in, I was geared with gloves, a basket, and clippers. I intended to listen to the audiobook of Stephen King’s Life of Chuck (my movie of the year, tied with Sinners) while relieving the dandelions from crowding my cucumbers and pruning the suckers from the sweet cherry tomatoes.
My green thumb would have to wait. Chris was on a call, and I was anxious to talk through the scenario with him. For this opportunity, I’d be traveling for eight days, starting in four days, internationally with a new team. I’d have to cover myself for another week of work I committed to, and hope they don’t hold it against me. I’d miss my family's annual 4th of July party… again. And I haven’t seen them in months.
Are my nieces and nephews putting me in the she’ll probably not show up category?
A friend said recently that freelancing “feels like people are paying you to miss out on things.” And I’m the toll collector.
One of my first gigs was a production assistant on an ambush game show called I Bet You Will. Tagline: The Show That Proves People Will Do Anything for Money. Ain’t it the truth.
No, I’m not eating cow testicles or getting a mystery tattoo (sample bets from IBYW), but I was choosing between money and time with family.
Needless to say, I took the job. I was thrilled to get the call! And there is no question I was making the right decision, but the guilt and the rush to book flights, hotels, and mentally prepare for a new gig got me in my head.
And then it got under my skin. My right inner forearm started itching. Later at dinner, I could feel inflammation on my cheekbone.
It must be the wine, I thought. It wasn’t.
The next morning, both of my arms were inflamed, as was the left side of my face and my neck. Urgent care guessed a tick bite, took blood, and gave me an oral steroid. It got worse. It seemed to spread, the steroid blew up the left side of my face, and my eye swelled over. Onset: more stress.
What the hell is going on with my body? Should I call and warn the client that I might not look the healthiest? Did I have enough lightweight long sleeves to wear at an outdoor, all-day, consumer-facing, summer event for 5 days? Would glasses and a hat hide my off-putting appearance and my embarrassment?
I googled everything. Lyme’s disease could look like this, but I never saw a bite. Was there Poison Sumac, Ivy, or Oak hiding in the raspberry bush I just cut back? That could last 1-3 weeks. And ooze. But symptoms should have started with severe itching, and this was dull. I didn’t eat anything out of the ordinary. What if this were a rare infection that would spread to my lungs when I was halfway around the world? I was writing my GoFundMe before I was even on the plane.
I went to urgent care again. This doctor was quick with his diagnosis. “It’s an eczema flare-up,” he said. Really? I started a new clinical trial medication earlier this year, and it’s had mild success. The places my eczema had lingered during the medication were looking a lot better during the last week. So, I didn’t even put the two together. I immediately assumed it was something worse, uncontrollable, and likely cataclysmic to my success on Day 1 in this new job.
I walked back into the lobby to meet Chris. Two new prescriptions in hand, I told him the diagnosis. “Really?” he asked, as perplexed as I was.
The good news was that this was a familiar battleground. Knowing the enemy was my lifelong autoimmune disease put a little of my anxiety on the back burner. This I was armed and ready for.
Don’t be fooled, I still went full tilt on a cocktail of steroids, Benadryl, Advil, and an over-the-counter water pill to help with the puffiness. Ashwagandha gummies for false hopes, and my prescription Xanax for emergencies. *NOT MEDICAL ADVICE! CONSULT A PHYSICIAN. I also packed long sleeves, a hat, glasses, all the topicals, and makeup for cover.
By the time I landed in London, the rash on my face looked like a sunburn. And everything else could be covered up. My eye was still puffy, but what else is new? We jumped right into working, and I remembered one thing about myself that I should never be anxious about. When it comes to a job, I put my all into it. I work hard and I don’t back down from a challenge. Once we were a few days into the work, I focused less on my skin and more on the job at hand.
I’m trying to take this flare-up as a smoke signal to calm TF down and be better prepared for chaos as an independent contractor. Work out, eat healthy, and sleep more. Simultaneously, I’m going to the dermatologist ASAP for good ol’ FDA-approved commercially prescribed dermatitis meds.
Cue: A steady stream of Instagram Ads promising to lower cortisol and a power selfie from a hotel bathroom.
As always the best reading ! You’re the best my sweet girl !! Hope you’re doing better
I so enjoy your writing. Real and captivating. Keep writing.