Because I know you're going to want every detail--who wouldn't?--I have a rash. It has been there for some time, and naturally I figured "leukemia," and I really have no idea if leukemia presents with a rash, and I did not look it up because even though Marvin left over two years ago, I still try to stick with his rule that I was not allowed to Google symptoms.
It's just better all the way around. In fact, it's better for all of us. We should all just not Google symptoms, any of us. Stop it. We should also not Google pictures of the Boston Marathon bombing, which I keep doing and then getting upset.
What did we DO before we could Google our stuff, like "Why do I have a rash" and "Why won't June get to the point"?
It was nestled, my rash was, in between my rather ample bosoms, and I at first thought what you're thinking: heat rash. I work out all the time (okay, "all the time" might be a strong phrase) and wear the world's strongest sports bra and yeah, that makes sense. That or leukemia. But when normal stuff wouldn't clear it up, I asked my doctor, and NO, I DIDN'T just stampede to the doctor for a rash, judgy, I think I was there for migraines or plantar or the disease of going on and on in a story. One of those.
She prescribed a cream, and? Nothing. Did not clear it up in the slightest. So I called and they referred me to a leukemia specialist. Or a dermatologist. Whichever. I went to said dermatologist on Tuesday, and yes I DID look around to see if she did Botox, but there were no brochures out so dang. I was also tempted to ask for Retin A, but the last time I was on that stuff I got my eyebrows waxed and my entire upper face fell off.
You aren't supposed to get waxes when you use Retin A. News flash.
So all I got was a new prescription. I Went To The Dermatologist and All I Got Was This Lousy Prescription. Whatever is wrong with me is SO ODD and RARE and WEIRD that I had to get it filled at a confoundned pharmacy or something like that, where they mix things up for you. "Have you been to Place That Time Forgot Pharmacy, over by the jewelry store?" the dermatologist asked.
I had not. But I went there after work, and holy gatos. Seriously, you haven't been to a pharmacy like that since 1978. It was so effing cool.
It was just a pharmacy, you know what I mean? It wasn't nestled in your Target or your grocery store. And they sold crutches and Pedialyte and medicated powders and all kinds of sexy things that I could have spent forever looking at. Do I need an enema? I'd think, fondling it. How about stuff for a sitz bath? What IS a sitz bath? Is that where you sitz instead of stand?
I have no idea when I turned into my grandfather.
Finally my stuff was ready. It was $38, which was so much better than the TWO HUNDRED SIXTY-EIGHT DOLLARS I pay for six of my migraine meds. Yes, I have insurance. Remember when insurance actually covered stuff?
But right before I left, I saw they had Tussy. Oh!
My grandmother used Tussy. It's this cream deodorant, and why you'd want to scoop up your deodorant and apply it with your hand like you're eating daal and naan or something is beyond me. But she had it, and right there in that pharmacy that time forgot, I opened the jar and sniffed that stuff.
I might as well have been back at her vanity in 1970, digging through all gramma's lipsticks and Prell and Dippity-Do and Rapture, which I once put on and paraded out to her, saying, "How do I smell? I put on your Rupture" and she fell over in hysterics.
Oh! The smell of that Tussy took me back. It too me back to Rupture days. And that is why I've gathered you all here today. What smell reminds you of the past?
Oh, and the cream seems to be working. I'd have taken before and after shots but I didn't know you'd be this into my rash. Freak.