I will spare you an in-focus, close-up photo of what’s happening to my face—this blurry depiction of the red, raw, and swollen result of light treatment for pre-malignant lesions is scary enough, don’t you think?
This really, really, really hurts. I should have guessed it would. My sensitive and way-reactive skin has a history—the Tegaderm tape used to bandage my breast and underarm post-lumpectomy melted into my skin, the latex Band-Aid that covered my basal cell skin cancer surgery site burned a border around the wound, and sunscreen pretty much always causes me major irritation. My skin responds violently to everything, like yesterday’s aminolevulinic acid topical solution. The stuff was applied to my entire face, I sat for 45 minutes while it absorbed, and I spent 15 minutes under tanning-bed-like lights, which activated the whole process of killing pre-cancer. It’s a process for which I am thankful—this approach should wipe out all invaders at one time and prevent the repeated freezing of spots that creep up over time. But man, this is no fun, and the discomfort of my throbbing, stinging face is forcing a homebound day of rest. I hate that—I can’t run, I can’t tackle my to-do list, and I can’t drive my kids to and from their activities, because the sun beams in at me from all directions and causes prickly pain that is almost unbearable.
This too shall pass, according to the medical assistant I called this morning after I woke up to a face on fire and a mouth that is puffy and pulled in a plastic-surgery sorta way. Some people just react more strongly than others, she said, but relief should arrive sometime in the next 24 hours.
Twenty-four hours. I’m banking on it.