My face was on fire, bumpy, and red. I couldn’t heal it the way I knew how. I scheduled an appointment with my family doctor to have a look at it. It being my face. It meaning it is not mine anymore. It must belonging to someone else.
When my Doctor saw my face she looked at me and said, “Oh, Candy you have Rosacea.” I looked baffled at her. She must be speaking another other language. She looked at my confusion and proceeded to tell me all about the different types of Rosacea. She informed me I had Type 2 Rosacea. She also referred me to schedule an appointment with a dermatologist. Then she prescribed me some medicine. It was an antibiotic based cream for one’s face. In short it is called Metro cream.
The first thing I did when I arrived at home was to research this new word that was given to me. Upon research I found out that this skin condition has been around for years. Centuries. This skin condition has been around for quite some time and no NO cure has been found. I was astounded to find this information out. I then researched all the possible flare-ups for rosacea. The flare-ups were everything I loved to do or eat. For example: Run, hike, desserts, spicy foods, vodka, hot teas, soups, tomatoes, exercising, hot weather, cold weather, wind, extra.
I began to shed tears down my hot red cheeks. I couldn’t become a hermit. I couldn’t stay way from the things I loved. I didn’t want the flare-ups to run my life into nothingness. I decided to use the cream that the Doctor gave me. She said that this cream helped heal the Rosacea on her cheeks.
I used the cream. I put it on for weeks. My skin didn’t improve. It just became dry. Flaky. Peeling. Something worse than before. I felt stuck. I was stuck. I couldn’t get out of my head.