What's in a name?

Now that it has turned colder, the brisk air, heated rooms, and frequent hand washings to avoid colds have caused complexion problems of dry skin.

Recently my husband and I were at an Elderhostel at Trout Lodge (YMCA of the Ozarks) and discovered that neither of us had remembered to bring a bottle of lotion. After the second day we knew we had to either drive into Potosi to buy some lotion, or find a source there at the lodge. Another leader at the Elderhostel offered me one "dose" which helped for awhile.

We took a walk to the Country Store gift shop hoping to find some lotion there. Lester noticed a small display of personal needs while I was shopping for a shirt to bring home for our great-granddaughter. We paid for the purchases and when we got back in our room, the bottle was placed by the sink where we could use it liberally.

I began to have the sniffles, possibly a light cold or an allergy, and the area beneath my nose was getting very irritated from frequent tissue use. I was glad we had made our purchase so I dabbed the lotion on my hands and face each time I was in our room.

Instead of softening my skin, I noticed that my face seemed to be drying out even more. I was too busy to think much about it, but I did carefully use the lotion each time I had an opportunity. I wanted to relieve the tight feeling in my skin that I was experiencing.

During the night I woke several times because my face was becoming actually painful. Each time I woke I felt in the dark for the little bottle and put more lotion on after first washing my face.

As it got light I looked at the bottle carefully to be sure I had grabbed the correct one. Yes, it had the familiar trade name we always used. I had not gotten a hold of the wrong bottle.

When Lester woke up and I turned on the light, I picked up the bottle to give myself another treatment and noticed the small lettering under the little travel bottle trade name. It said, "shampoo." I had been freely splashing my hands, face and arms with shampoo for a day and a night and leaving it on to soak into my already drying skin! By this time the skin around my mouth was so dry it almost hurt to smile.

Since I was leading a class on humor and games, smiling was very important.

Of course, I immediately washed all the covered areas of my body and went in search of my friend who had loaned me some lotion a few days earlier. She shared her supply and I got some relief.

On the way home we stopped at my sister's home for lunch. I wasn't as interested in what she had for us to eat as I was in a hurry to get to her bathroom cabinet to douse myself with her lotion. It sure felt good.

Back at home I continued almost bathing in the stuff until the pain had disappeared. But another problem began. My skin began to peel. By Sunday, and church time, my skin was coming off in strips and nothing I could put on my face made it look any better. I tried to explain to those around me, but it got too complicated.

So I decided to just write about it so that if any of my church friends were afraid that I had the mange they will know they were not infected.

Stupidity isn't contagious.