you know what I feel like bitching about this. This will be the official first thing I bitch about.
Some people have allergies to normal things. Like pollen or cats or the person who sits in your spot in class or takes your parking spot (I’m looking at you shiny silver Camry).
You know what I’m allergic to? Fucking soap.
I am allergic to hand soap and I almost choked writing that because that has got to be the most dumbass allergy I’ve ever heard of. Nobody sits there and goes, “oh you’ve got allergies too? Haha, you should’ve seen this one time I used Dove body soap. Got a body rash for days. It was fantastic.”
How does one get diagnosed with soap allergies? Well this is a fun story. For years, my hands have mysteriously and randomly gotten red. As in so red it looked like I was wearing red gloves. On top of that they chapped to the point where they started bleeding. “Hey, there’s blood coming out of your wrist.”
“Oh yeah, you know, that just happens sometimes. I’m used to it”
A junior higher trying to explain that they are somehow use to blood seeping out of their hands periodically for no reason at all.
So this went on for years. Finally I’m a freshmen in college and I’m so over this cycle of my skin just going apeshit over nothing so after seeing a dermatologist for a year he finally asks me, “Have you ever tried using lotion for sensitive skin.” Now, I have tried using everything that’s ~~dermatologist approved for sensitive skin!!!~~ ~~4 out of 5 doctors say this is the best soap you’ve ever used!1!!1~~ and that one doctor who doesn’t approve is the one that knows my hand still bleeds for all those “sensitive skin” soaps.
Since I’ve tried everything (or I think I have) and I’m desperate for any solution, I look at my doctor’s offer of his approved soap and I’m like “just fuck me up” (what do I honestly have to lose).
So I try it. It’s called Cera Ve. And it saved my life. And I’m actually not being paid to say this but if Cera Ve wants to pay me they can PM me and I’d love to pay off my student debt. But no, I use this “special stuff” and not only do my hands clear up in a couple weeks but they never get red again. Because I guess by the time you buy Cera Ve, you’re a desperate piece of shit who will buy the most mellow soap on the market.
But wait, there’s more. This miracle substance costs $13 a bottle. A bottle that is about 12 ounces at best. So summed up: it’s expensive. It’s really expensive. It’s painful to buy when you’re following your parents around Costco on Christmas break to pick up everything for the big dinner and you see a massive 5 year supply of soft soap for only 8 bucks and something inside you fundamentally dies just realizing that you could have all this cheap soap for the low low price of having your hands burn off.
And it sucks. So when my suitemate gives me the side-eye because I have a collection of empty Cera Ve bottles across my bathroom sink while trying to desperately fill each bottle with water and squeeze out every last drop possible… stick it Sandra. This shit’s expensive and the government doesn’t care if you have suds allergies as long as you pay the money they loaned you while stabbing you with an interest rate that is anything but criminal.
So everywhere I go, I carry a cool* (*it’s not cool) travel size Cera Ve. Which leads to interesting conversations in the bathroom that I never wanted to have. Like when I was at a national conference presenting my research and I had to use the public bathroom so I quick put my little bottle on one of the sinks along the row (off to the side so hopefully not to cause a disruption) so I could come back to it when I wash my hands after I’m done. And of course as I walk back to the sink there’s a middle age lady who looks like a wannabe Olivia Newton-John double from the end of Grease putting her hip little bandanna in her hair and standing right in front of the sink where I put my bottle. There’s a whole row of sinks and she picked literally the one in the corner I put my Cera Ve bottle on. I am ashamed and patiently waiting for her to step aside so I can at least rescue my poor little expensive bottle and finally wash my hands. Well no sooner do I start standing there but this lady notices out of the corner of her eye and gives me a scowl that would’ve sent John Travolta running for the hills as she sharply asks me “what do you want”
“My soap.” I say sheepishly pointing to my little Cera Ve bottle. She sees it, gives a sigh to be heard across the bathroom and steps aside. As I rush to my soap bottle I apologize “sorry I have a soap allergy and this is my special soap” but she leaves halfway through ensuring I feel like a piece of shit because I have got to be the only person in human history who has the unfortunate luck of being allergic to standard hand soap.
It’s rough some (most) days. And some (every) days I just wish I could go two seconds living like a normal human being. But then my body hears me say that and decides that it’s time to make some other part of my body go defunct.
Happy days are here to stay.