The life of an ordinary woman, who'd been given an extraordinary gift. The Gift of Sight. This is my story and my life.

Archive for the ‘Rosacea’ Category



Transplanted (literally lol) post from main blog… "Putting My Worst Face Foward"

As a means to kick start this new blog page, I figured I would serve it well by making it a “transplant recipient” as well. Of a post I happened to actually write up YESTERDAY of all things (lol)…

I didn’t always see myself as “pretty”. In honestly any sense of the word.

I was your average American tomboy girl. I loved being barefoot, in jeans or shorts and a comfy shirt. I hated dresses and makeup. In fact, I rarely, if ever wear either of the latter to this day. And I’m about to turn thirty-five.

As a teen, I had your basic teen acne. Or so I’d thought. I had some pretty icky breakouts. Especially around the time of a hormonal flux at the nearing of my menstrual cycle.

After years of trying everything, by my 19th birthday, it all just went away. I went on with my life. Had gotten married, had a child, divorced. Remarried, had two more children. Also I’d lost a child in between the middle and youngest.

That’s also when my breakouts came back. Right near the loss of that baby in 2003. And they came back with a vengeance.

After having my youngest child, who is now seven years old, and in the First Grade, things only had become worse. But I figured that over time, with my hormones getting back to a normal level, everything would just clear up again.

Oh how WRONG was I with that assumption. If anything, they had become worse.

By the time she was a year old, my face went to looking like this with Rosacea…

And yes, it steadily got worse than this. To the point that it hurt me emotionally, psychologically and even socially.

I hated leaving my home. I didn’t like to be out in public. Not looking like that! People would stare. Little children would ask what happened to my face, as they pointed and had that look of disgust upon their faces.

There were times that I was even embarrassed to be around my family, wondering what they thought of how I looked. On occasion certain members of the family would “grill” me on what I ate, what I used to clean my face and whatnot.

I did NOTHING wrong. I ate NOTHING wrong. It was NOT my fault. But it certainly felt like I did SOMETHING wrong.

Eventually the Rosacea went in to an area of the body I had NEVER heard of it even being possible.

My eyes. But it primarily attacked my left eyeball. And I went to a Ophthalmologist who sadly MISTREATED me for the wrong infection. In the end, the Ocular Rosacea (Subtype 4) ate away most of the cornea (outer window of the pupil that is your eye’s lens) in the left eye.

At times, my face looked like this man’s…

And yes, my eye would like like the one in this picture…

In the end, after my cornea had perforated (had a hole in it), I looked like this..

Not even two weeks later, thanks to Ocular Rosacea eating away my cornea, I had no choice but to have an emergency-based Corneal Transplant (Keratoplasty) and required a full graft of another person’s cornea after they had died and were an organ/tissue donor.

Here I am 2-weeks post-op…

And here I am 2 YEARS later…

As for the Rosacea, it is now under control!! I am on Doxycycline pills. And will most likely be on and off of them for the rest of my life.

Plus, soon, seeing as I can no longer have children, we are going to try a cream medication after removing me from the Doxycycline pills in a few months. And if need be, I may even end up being on both to ensure that when I have an “attack of the pimple kind”, it will not be that bad, and will be staved off from being inside my eye.

Here I am today, pimple/Rosacea free (for the most part)…

I still have breakouts. Mainly around my cycle. But it’s now just a bump here and a bump there. Yes, they CAN be painful, swelled and very red. But at least I’m NOWHERE near as horrible looking as back in the time of my youngest being a baby.

I’m more confident, knowledgeable about my conditions and am no longer afraid to walk out of my home, only to face ridicule from strangers young and old.