Friday Tidbits: Three Medical Quirks

Experiencing motion sickness but already suffering migraines...

It's Friday Tidbits time, the day of the week when I can make a few points without needing transitions between topics.  OK: I know that this differs very little from my usual way of writing, but I do like just a few teeny-tiny delusions in my life.  We'll pretend that I always have beautiful transitions.  Fine: end of ramble and on with the subjects at hand.  

I have three medical quirks you might not have noticed before which I found fascinating.  These I bring to you from what I've learned from my rheumy/immunologist over the years.  I'm not sure what we can actually DO with them, but hey!  That's our lives (those with CFIDS/ME/CFS and/or fibromyalgia) on any day with anything, so why start making too much sense now?

And so, on with: Did you know that...

• You can get reptilian/lizard-like skin from fever and swelling?   Ha!  This is a good observation and tidbit, no?  (Yes!) When I got the cellulitis in my hands and left foot, my hands swelled up enormously, with extremely tight skin and tremendous hotness and redness to them.  After the high dosage of antibiotics finally kicked in, the swelling, redness and hotness started to come down, but my hands had a very strange texture to them.  I kept looking at my hands and thinking, "what the heck is going on here?"  (You DO realize that you're getting the cleaned up version of what actually went through said mind?)  My hands didn't look chapped, they didn't get a rash and they weren't dehydrated either.  They just looked sort of scaly, almost reptilian or lizard-like.  (This "reptilian/lizard-like" description is uniquely mine, I believe, not found in medical journals, though there is no doubt about the phenomenon.)

I discovered that a good description of what happened is "local inflammation that creates a glove of dead skin."  The top layer of skin dies and then flakes off.  When the top layer of your skin is no longer alive, but hasn't yet flaked off, it gets rough.  Oh my, "rough"?   Well, that's just putting it mildly.  But, now, a few weeks later, my hands have a wonderfully soft texture!  Think about it: I underwent a natural exfoliation process!  It's not the IDEAL way of going about doing one, but the end result WAS gorgeous. (I'm TRYING to be positive here, y'all!)

• That itchiness can be associated with a viral illness such as the flu?  No one knows why this happens.  It's called "pruritis," which is just a fancy word for "itching."  There's a spectrum to pruritis as there's a spectrum in almost everything.  Some cases are simply due to dry skin but others have more serious causes.  It's not an allergy.  It's just a non-specific reaction that may be due to a toxin or a virus, but again, no one is exactly sure why this happens.  (Oh, we can talk unmyelinated C-fibers, nociceptors, histamines and all sorts of medical theories till we're blue in the face but it all boils down to "No one really knows, folks!" and  besides, they are not the point.)   

The itching can be as benign as seen with dry skin or even pregnancy.  However, it can also be a sign of serious illnesses and/or conditions.  These include liver disease/liver failure, kidney failure or when other organs malfunction, such as the thyroid gland.  I have this symptom a lot and am happy to finally have an explanation for it since I always knew it wasn't simply due to dry skin nor imaginary.  (Remember: I have hypothyroidism but there's more than just one candidate for what causes this with my body.)   Furthermore, this is an itchiness that is definitely "invisible": it's not a rash or hives, just itchiness so bad that you want to get out of your skin.  So, next time you or I are in a hospital and complain of itchiness that's driving us nuts and the nurse gives us a disbelieving fish eye, we can be prepared!  I can tell you that when I've had this invisible itchiness, rashes and hives all at the same time, it was the invisible itchiness that was the worst - by far. 

• Children destined to become migraine sufferers have a warning of what is to come later in life by suffering motion sickness accompanied by vomiting.   I can vouch for that!  I'd give my camp counselors a desperate look and was immediately excused to get out of church QUICK: all it took was barfing a couple of times as a 5 year old and I was set for 13 summers!  This is the fate of the migraineur: he/she is sensitive to stimuli, be it to light, sounds and smells, a "state of being" for one who is extremely sensitive to these stimuli, even when without a "headache."  This certainly explains a lot of my childhood, though I had migraines even as a very young child.  (I know: I'm so wonderfully lucky, aren't I?  Excuse me as I keel over!)

And so there you have it.  A few little tidbits to mull over in your mind - or not, as you wish, though I'd rather hope something here is of use.  In any event, I wish all of you a wonderful weekend, with you feeling your very best, only better.  Ciao and paka! 

Dealing With Chemical Sensitivity

Wearing all cotton by Joan Vass made life infinitely more comfortable: office get-together picnic in the '80's (can't you tell by the hair???)

Like many of "us" who are cursed with this DD, I can't walk down the detergent aisle of a store because that aisle in particular seems to irritate almost all of us with CFIDS/ME/fibro in the form of migraines and even skin irritation, often in the form of abrasions and hives.  I can't even go into most department stores without my eyes turning severely red, which burn so painfully that I find myself wondering, "how much worse can any of Dante's hells possibly be?"

On the whole, however, I've found that the higher-end stores like Saks are significantly easier to "endure."  My head and skin tell me that the higher-end stores don't use as many chemicals in products (such as clothing) as the lower-end stores do.  Due to the superior fabrics used in high-end stores, fewer chemicals are needed, for example, in their sizing, in order to look good.  Furthermore, when fewer chemicals are used, the stores themselves don't cause my eyes to immediately redden and water, and a migraine hitting me like a sadist banging a shovel over my head as soon as I walk through their doors.

At any rate, I thought that I'd jot down some of my survival tips in this area of pain in the behind-ness:

1.  If at all possible, wash your garments before wearing them.  Of course, as with most things, there are exceptions to the rule.

•  I find that Eddie Bauer and The Gap/Banana Republic T-shirts, for example, are OK.  Yes, some garments will make my eyes burn but in a perverse sort of way, that's a blessing since it warns me to not even go there! Eddie Bauer and The Gap don't seem to make my eyes red, I get no headache nor skin sensitivity in the way of hives and/or rashes.  However, since I only order on-line, I'm not sure how actually going into one of their stores would react with my traitorous body.

• I try to buy fabrics which are washable and do not require dry cleaning.  Of course I'm not crazy enough to do this with coats, though I must admit that I once tried this with a washable suede jacket and to say that it was a failure is to say that Dorothy had a bit of a hard time getting back home again from Oz.

2. Establish if you are allergic to any detergents, fabric softeners and other laundry products, including spray-on starch and spray-on sizing.  I find that I'm off and on in this area.  I'll be sensitive for a few years, start in with the more "organic" products for a couple of years and go back to the old, established ones.  (Am I high-maintenance?  Nah!  What could possibly give you that idea?)  Surprisingly, I don't have trouble with Downy fabric softener: in fact, if I don't use it, I have skin irritation, perhaps because the clothing is then too hard on my skin?  And for some reason I've not had good luck with the organic fabric softeners.

3. Set "rinse" on max and/or "extra cycle" in your washer setting in order to get rid of as much detergent as possible.  This is, actually, my best weapon in my laundry wars: rinse, rinse and rinse, and then rinse again.

4. As my garments become more mine and less the manufacturer's, I find that I can use less cleaning product as well as less fabric softener. With each wash, more of the chemicals are washed out, bit by bit, load by load.  Because of this, I like to buy higher end garments (nightgowns and lingerie, especially, since they are closest to the skin).  I'd much rather lean toward the expensive nightgown which will last me a minimum of 10 years, has fewer chemicals to wash out in the first place due to the finer fabric, than a cheaply made one which will last only for a couple of years, most of which time I'm fighting the chemicals embedded in the fabric.  I discussed cotton wear (nightwear) in this post, here. 

I hope that you can find something in this post that'll help make your life easier.  What tips can you offer us in dealing with these chemical sensitivities?  We'd love to have more tips!

And, finally, I do hope everyone's feeling their best today, only better. Ciao and paka!

CFIDS sensitive skin: Some of us need to learn the hard way...

My mom is proof positive that eating healthy and exercise really helps you look great even when you're 70.  Here in Kiev in '93.

At times I marvel at my colossal stupidity.  I mean, I've had CFIDS/ME/fibromyalgia and all of the health issues that have resulted from this core illness for 37 years.  And yet, somehow, I'm still in denial and do incredibly dumb things.  


I KNOW I have sensitive skin.  I've even written in this very blog about some of the problems I've had because of this.  I take an anti-histamine every night in order to keep hives at bay.  For Pete's sake!  You'd think by now I'd be a bit more careful about what I put on my skin and what I eat and/or drink.  But I'm constantly doing stupid things. Well, I guess I needed to go too far in order to start back to where I would get some real help.


Yesterday, Saturday afternoon, was quiet around here.  Hubby was exhausted and was taking a long nap.  I'd gone to the dentist on Thursday, a hugely needed event, and had my teeth cleaned - YAY!  The plaque was driving me absolutely bonkers and I had two year's worth because of the whole thing going on with my daughter.  Now we're, of course, catching up with everything.  


BTW: I had some really good news that could be taken as a tip perhaps.  For the first time in my life, I had no cavities.  My dentist (of almost 30 years) was quite surprised and said so: with my dry mouth, it's always a given that there'll be major problems, at the very least, cavities.  Given how long it'd been since my teeth have had any professional attention whatsoever, this was nearly a miraculous happening.  But once the conversation turned to bad backs, I thought to mention that I was able to brush my teeth more frequently because we had remodeled our attic bathroom (the one we've been living in for a year because the "master" bedroom and bath are being remodeled - SCREAM!) and that we'd put in a tall vanity with the sink.  Rather than those low vanities where you have to bend down so far when you wash your face and do your morning or nightly routine, our new vanities are now the height of the ones in a normal kitchen.  What a difference.  Now I have much less back pain so my brain doesn't rebel as much when I try to go brush my teeth.


But on Saturday, I came down with hives and couldn't figure out what the heck was happening. 

We remembered that on Friday I was feeling so cruddy that I called hubby at work and said that I absolutely needed a hero, loaded down with tons of processed meat: salami and ham, especially.  I needed the salt big time.  And I told  him to add a pizza to the whole bit.  If I was going to be "bad" and eat those things that hurt my body (the carbs and combining carbs with proteins/fats, plus processed food in general), I was going to at least enjoy it.


On Saturday, having already messed up my good eating habits, and feeling worse, I added cookies and milk to the whole eating disaster, and asked hubby to defrost some of my piroshki while he was at it.  Piroshki are these wonderful baked rolls with a ground beef filling that also has my beloved dill in it, etc.  (Everything Russian has dill, or sour cream, or better yet, both!)


So hubby and I tried to figure out what in the world had caused these baby hives that were breaking out all over, section by section, like a general sending troops out to occupy new territory a bit at a time.

I remembered that after the dentist we had stopped at the pharmacy nearby.  I had needed some retail therapy. I've never been a believer in "retail therapy," but now that I am getting out even more rarely than before, I just needed to hit a store and look at those items I see on the Internet.  Wow.  The shampoos and products I see on "Project Runway" or even on the occasional commercials I don't manage to skip through - I never thought I'd get excited seeing them in real life!  What has my life come to?


So, as hubby had laid snoring next to me, I'd picked up the bag of what I'd bought two days earlier.  Yes, by the time I got home I was in no shape to even look at what I'd bought, much less appreciate it.  Friday, the day after the dentist's appointment I was in more pain than I've had in a long time, weaker than I've been in a long time.  


Post-exertional malaise anyone?  


As I wondered about the adventures at the dentist, I  remembered a nurse who was a patient at the holistic clinic I went to weekly for an entire year, back in 1997, something I'll get into at some point, I promise.  I'd see Betty there every once in a while when I'd get my weekly chelation or a "nutritional IV," a variation of a "Meyer's cocktail" (one of many therapies I underwent in that clinic each week) and wondered why she was there.  She didn't appear to be sick.  Yes, she was "elderly," but that certainly didn't "mesh" with what we had going on at the clinic.


I got to know Betty and she was fascinating.  She loved talking to me because she'd gone to nursing school in my home town - back in the early 1940's - and would love to hear if certain stores were still in business, what had happened to this place and that.  I loved listening to her because she'd been a nurse during WWll and I was absolutely stunned by the one time she did open up about what she'd seen when she worked at Dachau for just a few days or a week, after the war once the concentration camp was liberated.    


So, Betty was truly one of a kind.  I wondered, why was she there, hooked up to an IV?


Well, Betty was also very spry for her age, very energetic, looked at least 10-15 years younger than her real age. But she had always taken good care of her health, even when we Americans were not doing so.  Like my mom, she exercised every morning as soon as she woke up and took walks, even when people would stop and ask if she (or my mom) needed a ride.  No one walked when I was growing up.


And Betty felt that going to the dentist was an assault on the body, thus the "nutritional."  Wow.  I was really impressed. 


You see, though she never practiced in the US, my mom became a dentist after the war.  When she was in her DP camp (Displaced Persons camp) near Munich, the DP's, along with various international organizations and the Marshall Plan, started schools and my mom was able to continue the education that was stopped because of WWll when Ukraine was invaded by the Germans.  In her camp, where she lived for five years, she was able to get a wonderful education, including dental school.


Mom was always taught that dental work IS an assault on the body and that they should recommend that patients take it easy after any dental work.  In fact, they were also taught that during the woman's "time of the month," she shouldn't have any dental work done, it was just a bit too much.  


I know this sounds very old-fashioned and I know that it even sounds anti-feminist.  But the times I had dental work done on me at "that time of the month," when my mom wasn't aware of the "scheduling," I always came down with a cold or was generally run down.  One day, I famously barfed and passed out in calculus class, two days after the procedure.  Talk about embarrassment?!  And my mom was furious with me when she had to leave work and drive me home, asking me, hadn't she taught me better?


So, yesterday, visions of Betty bounced in my head as I tried to talk myself out of this awfulness I was going through.  No meds were helping, no mind games were doing any good.  And I tried not to think about the couple of dental projects I was scheduled for in the next couple of months.


Lying there, bored to death, I'd opened up the bags from the pharmacy I'd dumped by my bed and started looking at the "treasures" I'd brought home.  "Treasures," I might add, that hubby had warned me about, unfortunately.


I'd already tried the cotton pads.  Hubby had asked me if I REALLY wanted to buy them, since I usually curse the ones he gets me at the drugstore and I try to go with the Shu Uemura (which are almost impossible to find) or my second choice, Sephora's.  Annoying hubby was so right: when I took my makeup off that evening, it took seven of the new cotton pads to wash off the makeup with the micellar water I used, whereas you only need two pads from Sephora, and to add insult to injury, my face reacted to the very rough cotton, becoming very red and irritated. Those pads are definitely going back to the drugstore.


Also, lying in bed, I'd picked up a certain "correcting powder" that I'd seen someone on the Internet recommend, someone I like to follow on YouTube and whose recommendations which I've tried I've had great luck with.  I brushed a bit on my hand, the one with the huge scar, and wanted to see if I could see any change.  The powder in the compact was not bound together very well and it flew everywhere as I picked it up onto the brush.  As I tried to tap off off the excess, it was still flying all over, as well as when I brushed it onto my hand.  Nope, no difference.  I put it further up my arm, past my watch.  No difference, with powder still flying all over, cough, cough.  I was surprised hubby was still snoring away and that the flying powder hadn't woken him.


About 15 minutes later the area I'd bushed with the correcting powder on my hand started burning.  Stupid me, I tried to rub it off.  Of course that's just rubbing whatever was irritating my hand further into the skin.  Finally, I realized I needed to wash it off.


Finally! I fell asleep before I could do more (inadvertent) damage to myself.  But then I kept waking up, scratching. Each time I woke up scratching in yet another place but made myself fall back asleep - I really needed sleep, the bane of my existence.  After about the fifth time I realized that the scratching wasn't going to get any better, only worse.  My neck was affected, the shin of my left leg, and on and on and on it went.  


Hubby gave me Tylenol PM because it has Benadryl in it.  I knew that wasn't going to cut it so I reminded him of my nightly anti-histamine.  I took that and after about an hour the hives started to die down. We started reviewing everything I'd done, trying to figure out what could have caused the hives.  How in the world did whatever it was get into my system - what had caused the hives?


Later last night, very late, I happened upon a blog and the woman was someone I think someone here wrote about earlier, when talking about a muscle biopsy.  I read a few posts, enjoying the blog tremendously and even left a (long, of course!) comment.  I was convinced it was the milk I'd had that caused the hives.


But today, in the light of day, having analyzed everything, I am convinced it is the cheap pharmacy makeup.  My daughter stopped by as I got ready to take a long bath with a soothing milk product (ironically), and also gave me "a look" and said she was sure it was the makeup.  After all, I do get lactose intolerant if I've gone a long time without any milk, but it's never made me break out in hives.  Cheap makeup?  Yes, it's given me hives and other trouble in the past.


So, a little mystery solved.  And I feel stupid.  I already know I cannot handle silicone, or at least a product that has a lot of silicone in it, especially if it's in a cheap product.  And I also know that I can't handle a lot of the ingredients in the less expensive makeup and skincare products.  When I buy La Mer or Chanel, there is a reason. 


And yet, I worry so much about appearing like a spoiled diva that I end up sabotaging myself.  It's about time that I take a reality check and realize that the there is a reason I come back to the higher-end luxury products and they aren't because I'm trying to be a spoiled brat. 


But Betty and the IV nutritionals...why did I bring all of that up?  


Last night hubby and I realized that things have really gone too far.  I'm still recovering from everything my body went through with all those weeks and weeks of staying by my daughter's bedside at the "major medical center." I've not recovered well from the whole hospitalization and surgery thing I had going on back in November/December. I've not recovered from our visit to get my hair done, which was over a month ago.  I've not recovered from the GP's "normal" visit, nor the subsequent visit when I had to get my toe lanced because of the infection that wouldn't go away.  And now my body is trying to recover from the dentist and my stupid application of a cosmetic full of ingredients that don't agree with it.


We had to bring in the big guns.  It was time.


My GP and I have a great relationship.  I've been going to him for at least fifteen years and he remembers how well I did with all the treatments I underwent at the holistic clinic.  His philosophy and I quote: "I don't care if they put cow sh*t on your head.  Whatever they're doing, it's working.  Keep it up." 


One of the things that helped so much were the nutritional IV's.  In fact, there have been athletes in the past who have had CFIDS/ME and been able to play but do nothing else between games.  They've had their doctors on the sidelines pumping simple saline solution during the games.  But when the games were not in play, these athletes have gotten versions of "Myer's Cocktails."  Basically, your physician figures out which vitamins and minerals you are deficient in and puts those nutrients into a saline solution and it usually takes about two hours for the IV to get through your system.


So, last night, we resolved that my "eating right" was no longer enough.  I'd tried for a few months, I'd incorporated vitamins into my routine and I was doing much better on the migraine front but the rest of me...well, not so good. In fact, in some ways, I was doing worse, having become extremely accident-prone, a completely new development.


So, I had a health professional administer a nutritional last night.  We sat in my bedroom and watched a movie ("One For the Money" with Katherine Heigl and Sherri Shephard from Janet Evanovich's series, cute!!!) and by the end of the movie the IV was finished.


Today, I'm still feeling pretty bad, but I can tell that the nutritional has helped and am going to try to get a couple of nutritionals a week for a while, though I have no idea how long that will be. 


However long it is, it is well worth it and I highly recommend investigating this approach if you are in a state where nothing is helping.  


And I recommend that you stay away from some of the cheaper cosmetics too.  


Boy, this illness sucks and costs a bloody fortune! 


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..the good, the bad and the ugly (skin!)...

My mom and I on the crazy trip to visit my daughter: we were NOT in Florence!

Skin problems are often seen in people suffering from CFIDS or CFS/ME.  And because of the various symptoms/conditions we pick up along the way as a result of our wacky immune systems, at times our skin can develop rather major problems.

Out of nowhere around 1998, I suddenly developed huge hives over my entire body. My feeling? Crud.  I'd already had pityriasis rosea, a childhood affliction which I managed to develop as an adult.  I also got a nasty case of shingles after my children came down with chicken pox, all three right in a row.  

The funny thing about the shingles episode was that it is rarely seen (at least back in the 80's) in young adults but is seen mostly in the senior population whose immune systems are compromised.  This should indeed have been a bit of proof to the doctors whom I kept telling that there was definitely wrong with me. (Please imagine an eye roll here. Thank you!)

Another point I found interesting is that in order to have shingles, you need to have had chicken pox first, something I never had as a child.  Doctors have told me that I must have had a sub-clinical case, one where I had chicken pox but never actually came down with the bumps and markings.  I still have a hard time believing this is the case because my mom and I have examined each and every possible medical event in my life and there simply never was a time that I had the virus in the form of chicken pox.  Surely I would have run a fever at some point, at the very least.  But really, as a kid I was as healthy as an astronaut prepared for space travel.  No ear aches, barely a cold, though I did have the occasional sore throat and, of course, headaches.

Furthermore, our systems are so messed up that it wouldn't surprise me if I'd never had it and simply went into it, bypassing the root virus.  I mean, who REALLY understands these things?

So, here I was, stuck in 1998 with these huge hives which made me into an itching machine. Some of the hives were plate-sized and in some areas the hives had hives.  Honestly, I looked as if I belonged in some sort of freak show. Worse, my daughter had moved to Florence because NYU had suddenly been gifted a breathtakingly gorgeous Villa by a generous benefactor and was spending a semester there. Lucky girl.

I love to travel and I was sorely missing my daughter.  I know you can guess what's coming next... but you might also be surprised.

Amazingly enough, time-wise, I had just spent an entire year going to a holistic clinic in Columbus, Ohio, every week for an entire day or two or even three at times, of intensive treatments for my core problem, CFIDS/Fibromyalgia and the off-shoot problems.  More on this part of my "journey" at another time, however.

Because I felt relatively healthy, I thought I could handle a week of seeing my daughter, and the trip wouldn't be too much of a financial burden since I had the frequent flyer miles to make the airfare a nice zero dollars.

But (and really and truly, there always is a "but") I broke out in hives a couple of months before I'd even imagined this trip to Florence. Pitiful. I did NOT want to go the steroids route and resisted it for weeks as I itched, scratched and was totally miserable from this wicked state of affairs.  My weight was at a comfortable place and I really didn't want to become an eating machine with the off switch broken yet again.

When the idea of visiting my daughter in Florence came up, however, suddenly the steroid option started to sound good. And after a course of steroids, my hives disappeared for a while. Just as I was about to leave, however, the hives came back and I needed a steroid shot again. To give a quick summary of the hives aspect of this story, I'll simply say that those hives did return and continued to do so for quite some time until we finally found an anti-histamine that I've now been taking for years as a prophylactic measure.  As soon as I forget to take those little pills, the hives would come back.

My point?  All too often, skin issues are a very real, often severe, and an always annoying issue for "us." Thankfully, I have developed a huge array of options now which don't include steroids (knock on wood!), which often help me avoid drastic measures. Saturday and the following days after my beauty adventure was one such example.

Once hubby and I walked into the "beauty heaven" on Saturday and could collect our thoughts before starting the whole rigmarole, ever observant hubby asked me what the heck had happened to my neck and decolletage, the fancy word for the delicate skin on the chest area. I had huge, and I mean HUGE, blotches on my neck and chest, and I'd used nothing but my regular Dove when I showered.  A couple of areas had what looked like scratched bumps which were open. I suppose it was simply too much for my system to wash as well as go out - too hard for my system to endure.

This had happened in the past, just a bit.  I remember being embarrassed once while at an appointment with a cardiologist - a five-minute trip from our front door.  But Saturday's redness was way beyond what I'd seen in my "normal" past episodes.

To make things worse, the further along we went on with the day, more redness kept appearing, seemingly growing as if it were being fertilized.  At one point ever-observant hubby said it looked like he had tried to strangle me...and done a messy job of it at that.  Angry, red, though thankfully no welts, it looked almost as if someone had poured acid on it.  I must admit I wasn't too concerned and explained that this happened practically every time I went out, ever so patiently - as well as condescendingly - to my nosy hubby.

Got home and WOW!  What a shocker to see the mess in my own (larger) mirror and to realize that it had progressed during our ride home.  OK.  I admit we did stop at TJ Maxx, a compromise because I really wanted to go to a good Pittsburgh mall, and hubby was outraged. And I admit that I have that tendency to really want to run if I can do so at all. But in this case I had never been to the "new" TJ Maxx, despite the fact that the new strip mall was not so new anymore and I thought it was a good time to remedy that situation.  Plus I wanted the observation I made to a friend of mine when I burst out in frustration one day, "I don't do malls, I do CONTINENTS!" to no longer be true.  So I did have my reasons for going....

Back to the nasty red thing.  It was also now starting to hurt and my fingers wanted to scratch it, touch it like your tongue touches a sore tooth.

I looked over my supplies and saw "The Green Balm" among my (newest) goodies, ordered from "Cult Beauty" in England. I bought it because it WAS from "Cult Beauty," after all - a new discovery for me.  They really do carry only cult items, not full lines of any brand, but the items "everyone," professionals and the peons like me, are wild about.  Each product they carry is there because it really works.  What a fantastic idea!  This balm (I'd ordered an assortment because of a free international shipping promotion combined with a discount, courtesy of Ruth, the model, whose blog I love to follow) looked promising.  No "bad" stuff in the balm at all. All so very green and gentle that you can even dilute it in water and gargle with it, according to one source, though somehow I don't think I'll be trying that too soon.  

I gingerly patted a bit on my neck and decolletage and it felt heavenly.  A couple of hours later I noticed the area had really calmed down.  Hubby was duly impressed.  By the next morning, it started to look like I had simply had a bit of too much sun, skin turning almost into a tan.  I knew that with luck I would not be getting the bumps or discoloration which these sorts of rashes can cause, not even the tiny scabs that can occur.

The red angry rash, or whatever the heck it was, was practically gone - well, in some lights. The places I touched as I reapplied The Green Balm turned redder again, not happy about being touched but within ten seconds the area was back to the barely visible redness before touching.  My skin was also sooo soft.  

So this is the story of MY adventures with skin problems with this DD.  I have more I'd like to touch on in further posts. I'm trying out another product that looks promising in the oils area as well as those BB creams I mentioned last month.  

I do hope that this has helped some of you (possible) readers out there, at least to know that you're not alone.  It's a crazy illness which no one really understands.  

I also hope that there may have been seeds of thought cast out there for you to consider.  If and when you happen to run into these skin problems, my adventures may shed some light as to how you choose to treat them.  

And if nothing else, I hope you've had a few chuckles to make your day that much more happy/bearable.  I really do believe in the power of humor and laughter, right there after the prayers and positive thoughts we send out and receive.