Some three months or more ago I had an itchy scratchy patch on my belly. I did nothing about it. Then it grew. And I still did nothing about it. Then there was a second patch. And a third. So I went to see a dermatologist.
I know, you’re going to be shocked, but she told me I had contact dermatitis*.
I took the cortisone cream she prescribed and went my merry way.
A month later I was back in her office. The rash was now all over my stomach and back.
We graduated from “contact dermatitis” to “Huh. I don’t really know what that is, let’s try this steroid lotion.”
Cost of steroid lotion: $375.
Coupon helpfully handed out by dermatologist: $50.
Cream bought by me: none.
A month later I was back in her office. The rash was now all over. Back, stomach, legs, arms. The works.
A tube of steroid lotion to the person who guesses what the dermatologist said…
That’s right! Good job. Sorry, I never bought the lotion, can’t have any.
She said: “Wow. That is interesting. But I still have no idea what it is. Let’s try this other cream.”
I didn’t go back to see her again. That was over a month ago and, surprise surprise, my rash is still as bad.
So tomorrow I’m trying something new. I’m going to see an Internist. I’m not holding my breath, I doubt I’ll come home miraculously cured, but at least this one might resist rolling her eyes when I mention that I might need a blood test or something. I mean, a girl can hope, right? Because if things progress at this rate I’m going to be a shoo in for a role as a lizard in the next season of V.
*Dermatologist speak for “you have a rash.”