Friday, September 10, 2010

my face es en fuego

So today I woke up and as I washed my face, I realized my scar was finally gone.

I will admit something only a select group know about me; I lied to most people when they asked what happened because the truth was so embarassing.
Even Mr. Flintstone does not know the whole story-->that's how embarrassing it is.

Okay, are you ready?

In the summer of 2009, I burned my face.
While eating macaroni.

Well sorta.

I used to eat a lot of microwaveable macaroni. The good kind; not the kind you pour water into that's all powdered and stuff.
No, I used to eat the kind that was frozen macaroni in a little paper tray. It was so good.

& one day, I had just heated up some macaroni and when I pulled the paper lid off of the tray, hot cheese splattered all over my face and hands.
I don't even know how it happened.

It's not like the macaroni spontaneously combusted or anything.
I don't want any of you to have irrational fears of macaroni due to this post.
I think it had something to do with how I was holding it.

But anyway, that shit hurt. I immediately knew I was in trouble, even before looking in the mirror.

So I rushed to the bathroom to wash my face and when I splashed cold water onto my skin, I felt splotches of my skin wrinkling up. When I touched them, the skin just came off.

The part of my face that was skinned was pretty big, too. There was one splotch the size of my thumb just below my left eye and another, but much smaller one, by my mouth.

My best friend, Caroline, was on her way over and so I gave her a call;
Me: Hey sis, I just wanted to warn you that I burned my face just now. I didn't want you to come over & freak out or anything.
Caroline: You burned your face? With what? Is it bad?
Me: You'll see.

& to her it was that bad. Caroline thought it was so nasty she took me to the emergency room.
Her plan was just for us to walk in & get advice on how to treat it from a nurse or social worker but instead, the hospital actually admitted me.
2 hours later, they let me leave with the advice that I should not wear makeup until after the scab fell off and to use vitamin E to help with the discoloration. They also gave me 2 small packets of fancy neosporin.

I later recieved a $700 bill. Insurance picked up all but $30 & I still get letters from College Station Medical bitching about the $30 I still owe them.

I felt super gross. Especially once it started healing; the color of it right before it scabbed was the shade of green that sores turn when they're infected. Everytime I talked to someone face to face, I could see their eyes wandering from my sore to stuff behind me and back; they had to force themselves not to stare directly at it.
I could tell everyone really wanted to know how I'd gotten that nasty scar but usually they were too polite to ask. Sometimes guys would be like, "did you get into a fight?" & I lied. My story to everyone but my parents, the doctors, Caroline & Darlene was that I burned myself with coffee.
I dunno why, coffee just seemed so much less embarrassing than the truth.
I still think it is.

Mr. Flintstone was & still is such a total Adonis to me. He is physical perfection. If he was a dessert, he'd be creme brulee or that discontinued chocolate cake at olive garden. But anyway, my point is, I was really concerned about how long I'd have the scar and whether he'd still like me now that my face was possibly altered forever. I gave him a call;
Mr. Flintstone: Hello?
Me: Hey hun. How's your day going?
Mr. Flintstone: It's alright. What about yours?
Me: Not too good. I just burned my face and spent two hours in the emergency room.
Mr. Flintstone: What?
Me: It's not that serious. Caroline took me to get advice but they admitted me instead. But anyway, it's pretty ugly. I don't want to see you until it's cleared up. They said I might have a scar for the rest of my life.
Mr. Flintstone: That's silly, babe. & if you do end up with a scar, I'm sorry to say this babe but you'll have to go from a 10 to a 9--you'll still be beautiful.
Me: *laughs*
Mr. Flintstone: I know how you feel though. One time I was playing basketball and I accidently bit through my lip. I had to have stitches. It was really bad. So I know all about the insecurity about scars. But now you can't even tell.
Me: Really?
Mr. Flintstone: Really. So don't worry about it.

& that phone call really made me feel so much better.
Once the scab fell off, I had a tiny pink triangle under my eye--but you couldn't see it under makeup. & until today, when I caught a glimpse of a College Station Medical bill out of the corner of my eye, I'd almost forgotten about it.

To this day, I still haven't had any frozen macaroni but I honestly don't miss it.
I'll get back to it one day but for now I'm taking baby steps.

& also, I just noticed, I've been writing a lot lately about fire and heat. I hope to conclude this 4 part series with this post. I promise to start talking about other things again.


  1. Holy crap. That sounds horrible!
    My dad burned his hand on microwaveable chef boyardee once. It said to microwave it for 45 seconds. Yeah, he had it in there for 3 minutes. His scar on his hand looks like a disfigured smiley face, kind of like the Joker.

    That's really sweet of Mr. Flintstone. =] I may have a slight fear of microwavable macaroni now...but it's good that your scar is all healed!

  2. Haha, thanks Lexa!
    Sorry about your dad's hand scar: I like to look at it this way--it's a funny story AND it adds character! :)
    Don't be afraid of macaroni! I just bought my first box since then yesterday! lol

  3. I remember you called me right after you looked in the mirror!