A routine visit to a new dermatologist recently brought on more than I expected. I try to get examined annually, and sometimes there’s a mole to be lopped or frozen off (I descend from a mole-y people). Sometimes it’s for cosmetic reasons, sometimes it’s because of concern they could grow into something more serious. My goatee serves primarily as a way to avoid nicking either of my two chin moles for the umpteenth time.
Anyway, my fresh faced new dermatologist who looked about the same age as Doogie Howser (Google it kids), told me that I had many precancerous skin cells on my face, and he recommended a treatment with Fluorouracil. This cream attacks fast dividing cells that could/would eventually become skin cancer. A Fluorouracil treatment is a pre-emptive strike against such possible skin cancer.
Well, I still believe in science and expertise (even when given from 14-year old doctors), and so I said, “Sure, let’s do it!”
I didn’t really realize what I was agreeing to. My Doctor said it would be like getting a severe sunburn on my face, with dryness, itching, peeling, oozing, and naturally PAIN! My googling led to a story about Facebook posts from an Irish woman who shared her experience with the same treatment that was eye-opening and certainly gave me some pause. Regardless, I still figured the treatment would be better than the alternative. And there’s never really a good time to self-administer some painful disfigurement, so why not in December? Get it done and behind you before the New Year! That was my thinking.
To daily administer a cream to your face that you know is going to bring pain, suffering, and disfigurement is one thing, but it’s a thing that gets harder and harder to do each day, especially as conditions worsen (twice a day for three weeks was the full program). In the final week, looking into the bathroom mirror at my tortured face, and then to glove up and administer another dose of THE STUFF THAT IS CAUSING THE PAIN, SUFFERING, & DISFIGUREMENT is a terrible mental challenge. It’s like an eye exam testing your vision by showing you different sized letters on an eye chart, only this process tested my will by it’s daily requirement to spread more Fluorouracil on my increasingly suffering face. Madness!
The experience also tested my vanity. My focus on the appearance of my face could only make it more difficult for me to face others. The pain I was going through fueled a poor mood to match my inflamed face! Nobody would do this by choice right?
Ah right… him. Of course, and proving my point. ONLY AN IDIOT would do this to themselves day after day, and intentionally! Still, I’ve been feeling more like THIS guy!
To humanity’s credit, at least among those who I’ve encountered over these difficult few weeks, my worries that I might receive the below kind of reaction were unfounded. For friends and family, I gave them fair warnings. For co-workers, I kept my camera mostly off. But strangers had to take me as I came, and I never felt a stare, or a double take, or received a question about my appearance. So thanks to all of them for that, it was appreciated.
Anyway, enough talk about pain and feelings, let’s get to the photos! TRIGGER WARNING: there are disturbing photos of my face below (even the ‘before’ shot), so scroll on if you wish, you’ve been warned.
If you’re a glutton for punishment, you can see every one of the daily shots here. I may even continue the daily photos, just to track how long it takes me to return to normal (It will likely be several weeks). Surely when it’s all done, my face will be someone closer to this original state right?
Anyway, my wish in sharing these pictures of myself in this painful ordeal is to share some of the best advice anyone can repeatedly offer; be sure to slather yourself in high-SPF (and reef friendly!) sunscreen whenever you’re going to be out in the sun for long. That sexy looking tan won’t last, and the price you might pay one day for it is severe!
Merry Christmas!