|I LOVED my new bike!|
On dry land, I tore up the neighborhood on my yellow Schwinn bike, complete with tasseled handlebars and glittered plastic banana-shaped seat. It was a time when childhood danced with freedom and Mother Nature was my discothèque.
One day after noticing sporadic red bumps on my temples, forehead and cheeks, I asked my mom to pick up some CoverGirl® make-up at the drugstore. I thought I would slap some liquid loveliness on my face and poof; easy, breezy, beautiful.
My color selection and application skills were non-existent, so what I hoped would transform my face in to the next Christie Brinkley, made me look more like an Oompa Loompa. Like most teen-age girls experimenting with face-paint, I completely missed the mark.
So there I was, my bumpy pumpkin face hiding behind matching orange Pee Chee® folders, running around school in leg warmers and shoulder pads.
That same year, MTV exploded on the social scene, so wearing heavy Blondie-like make-up helped support my Glamamouflage cause.
|Left profile following scar excision surgery|
Theater tricks aside, my skin issues were far from concealed. The little red bumps quickly graduated to full blown golf-ball sized cysts and they were erupting all over my body.
I was diagnosed with Grade IV Nodulocystic Acne Vulgaris, a very severe skin disease consisting of deep seated fluctuant nodules and cysts. Most of my face, chest and back were infected and I would go on to have several surgeries on my face to remedy the scarring.
It was the beginning of a life-long struggle to ever feel normal-looking again.