For many years, I made biannual trips to my skin doctor, pardon, dermatologist, to have precancerous lesions removed before they reached the cancerous stage.

Most of them were on my face, some on my arms, the parts of your body usually exposed to the sun when you’re growing up. It’s too late now to worry about staying out of the sun.

Then my doctor suggested an alternative treatment. It would improve the appearance of my skin, he said, if I used a cream called Efudex-40 over a two to three week period, putting it on nightly and rubbing it into my face, avoiding contact with eyes and inside the nose and mouth.

It seems that some 30 years ago, doctors discovered that cancer patients treated internally with a medicine which contained a particular ingredient also had relief from their facial skin lesions, so it was deemed advisable to develop a skin cream using it.

The down side of it, the doctor told me, is that it could cause burning or inflammation and “you see that bucket over there?” he asked, pointing to a bright red plastic bucket on the counter. “That’s what your face will look like for a few weeks, so do it when you don’t have any social engagements for awhile. It will take a month or so to heal but then your skin will look great.”

I wasn’t anxious to have a face that looked like a red bucket but he said it was safe and wrote me out a prescription. For $161 I was on my way to renewing my face.

For the first few days I saw no change. Then I got up one morning to find that I looked like one of those corpses the CSI-Las Vegas team finds out in the parking lot. I could almost hear them singing, “Who are you?” My face wasn’t a solid red but blotched like a map of the islands in the Pacific. I was hideous. But I faithfully applied the cream each night until two weeks had passed and I felt it was time to stop. The directions on the cream didn’t want you to over do it either.

Fortunately, I didn’t have any meetings to attend at first where I would be exposed to the public, but I did have to go to the grocery store and another doctor’s office where people ducked their heads down to avoid staring at me. I’d just smile, and say, “Efudex-40.” I’m not sure they didn’t think I was telling them the name of the planet I was visiting from.

Anyway, when column writing time came, I sat down in front of the computer intent on the subject of the two medical tort reform initiatives. I-330 is the one sponsored by the doctors, hospitals and pharmaceutical companies in response to multimillion dollar jury verdicts in patient lawsuits that have driven malpractice insurance premiums to the skies and many doctors out of business or to other states. I-336 was filed by the personal injury attorneys who represent those suing patients and get a big share of anything they win.

As I sat there, itching and peeling and hideous, I got to thinking. What if I stay this way? What if the red blotches all over my face don’t go away? Which of these initiatives is best for me?

I am aware that tort reform has been fought over in the Legislature for a couple of years, passed in the Senate but held captive by the House Judiciary Committee, chaired by lawyer Pat Lantz, D-Gig Harbor. She couldn’t hold either of the initiatives and no alternative was offered to appear with them on Nov. 8. The sticky wicket, of course, is $$$$$$$.

I-330 eliminates humongous jury awards for pain and suffering by putting a cap of $350,000 on them, and limits the attorney’s take. I-336 has no cap and no fee limit and fingers the doctors as the cause of the trouble by making malpractice information public and revoking the licenses of doctors with three or more malpractice judgments in 10 years.

State Insurance Commissioner Mike Kreidler reported the other day that there were fewer malpractice claims filed against doctors last year than 2003 but the cost to defend went up.

I’ll stick with my original gut feeling to side with doctors. It’s the lawyer fees that jacked up insurance premiums and depleted our medical workforce. Yes on I-330, no on I-336.

Adele Ferguson can be reached at P.O. Box 69, Hansville, Wa., 98340.