March 20th. Monday.
Still nothing, really. Which again, is to be expected. But come on.
Waiting is hell. Good thing there are only six more freaking months of this. Keyword: only.
There’s this special kind of restlessness that comes with knowing this medication is working but that it’s taking its sweet time about it and there’s nothing you can do to make it go any faster. It kills you. No pun intended.
On to Week 2 >>>
March 15th. Wednesday
I started taking Accutane today. Claravis. I read this review online about how this one person took Accutane and their face cleared in 11 days. What a load of bullshit, am I right?
Finger still crossed though… That’s just not how Accutane works. This is how it works.
There’s really nothing to be done at this point. It’s way too early on for any symptoms to crop up. I’m just sitting here and waiting. Which is, in some ways, a lot worse than actually dealing with symptoms. If you’re taking Accutane, it’s probably because you’ve tried everything else. They told you this was the one. This would work. And you’re tired of waiting. You’re tired of hoping. You know it’ll work and you’re just ready for all of this to be over. And besides, what if that 11-day guy wasn’t full of crap?
I’ll give you a rough idea of what my acne looks like: I get pustules pretty much anywhere on my face (particularly my upper cheeks and forehead, but also right below my lower lip, my nose/face crease, my temples, and jawline. And then less frequently right on my nose and lower cheeks. So basically everywhere) and back, and less often on my neck. Not super frequently; I’d say two or three a week. Just often enough to say that I have acne, not just a few pimples here and there. I also breakout with them red bump things sometimes. It’s sometimes hard to tell what’s been popped and what’s just a bump.
My acne has been pretty consistent for all seven years. Which is nice: consistency is nice. But the acne isn’t. Right before this, I was on Minocycline and Aczone, neither of which did anything, which means that I started Accutane on a clean slate. In the sense that I basically looked how I would normally look (as described in the paragraph above). I remember going to CVS to get the Aczone and the pharmacist saying, “do you know how much this costs?” and telling her that I didn’t. She flipped around the little cash register periscope-display and it read $532. “Do you have a coupon?” she asked. I did, but I had to run home and get it. I rationed my Aczone very frugally in the next months. I knew that the coupon would run out eventually, and then I’d be in for it. I was really frustrated that both Minocycline and Aczone only prevented acne for as long as you were taking them. You have to keep paying money to prevent acne. It’s like a clear face subscription. Which is kinda messed up. I guess it’s for the best that it didn’t work? Another flurry of hope crushed, but it wasn’t a great solution.
It’s only the first day, but after seven years… when they tell you this is the one, you really can’t wait.
I’ll let you know
March 13th. Monday
Dermatologist appointment today. We had a chat. I gave them all the old one-two, verbally.
I basically told the nurse lady that my previous prescription, 100mg of minocycline/twice a day wasn’t doin’ jack shirt. Neither was the Aczone. This was my second time on minocycline, though I had been put on 50mg before (and had coincidentally paid 10 times as much for the medicine. Thanks (insert least favorite president here)).
My dermatologist recommended I try another tetracycline for a while and see what happened, but I highly doubted it would do anything the first two medications couldn’t. She told me that 100mg is the highest dosage they ever prescribe for patients, so I just didn’t see the use.
This naturally led her to broach the subject of Accutane, which is, of course, why I had come to her in the first place. I played it smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy and acted like I had no idea what Accutane was. But I knew. She talked about how Accutane was the kind of medication that could really get your jimmies rustled. More than just headaches and dizziness. This stuff could put some serious hurt on you. We’re talking depression, aggravated suicidal ideation, hair loss, vision and hearing impairment, and some other voodoo things. Also, you were almost guaranteed six months of dry lips and bloody noses.
So naturally I told her to sign me up. Tell the children I haven’t had yet that I love them.
I’ve had acne for 7 years, and I’m just tired of having this extra layer of nonsense to care about, feel ashamed of, spend time fighting, and allocate energy towards. Other people can just roll out of bed and get on with their lives while I have to look at myself in the mirror and be like, “nah, that isn’t going to do. I have to pop/treat/cover/moisturize that and then just come to terms with the fact that it’s not going to get any better.” I’m not saying I want to show up to my classes all smelly and bed-headed. But I want to be able to roll out of bed and not worry that there’s something on my face that’s going to take attention away from who I am and what I bring to the world. That is something I want so much.
I’ll let you know how it goes.