When I was just weeks old, my parents were given a prescription for hydrocortisone cream for my stupid skin. It came in a little white tub with a black lid. Why do I remember that? Because that tub was a constant in my life until probably junior high. Now my prescription comes in a metal tube like a fancy toothpaste.
Recently, my acupuncturist has been putting needles directly into the crook of my left elbow because of the rash there. (I’ve always gotten a rash there in the summer, and usually on the backs of my knees, too.) How can I tell Dr. Su that her needles aren’t the reason it keeps going away, but in truth the rash only comes when I read the Kindle app on my phone for too long and keep my arm bent? Dr. Su just seems so happy when I show up sans rash; I don’t have the heart to say, “It’s because I haven’t been reading the past two days.”
Also, she told me to rub lemon on the rash. I really wish she’d added, “Do it before you scratch!”