Skin Deep

I want you to think about your skin. Not simply a patch of it or the parts you don’t like. I want you to picture it in its entirety.

Start with your head and try to envision the one hundred thousand hair follicles that adorn your gourd (hairless individuals please proceed to the next paragraph).

Think about the skin on your face, how time etches its history on our features. If you’re like me, you get a sinking feeling whenever you happen by one of those god-awful magnification mirrors (I really think those things should be outlawed).

Now picture the skin of your torso. If you’re a fish-belly from up north, the skin on your abdomen is probably pretty pasty. For those of us living in the Sunbelt, we tend to accumulate a rash of freckles, especially on our shoulders, as we bake our way through life.

Proceed to your limbs. The skin on our arms tends to be of a tougher nature, since it’s frequently exposed to the elements. We’re all familiar with the “farmer’s tan” – bronzed forearms and a matching neck (thus, that lovely term "redneck"). For centuries, women have caked their faces with powder to reaffirm they in no way participate in manual labor.

And finally, picture the skin on the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet. Those thick, waxy surfaces can’t support hair follicles; thus they are the only places on our bodies lacking hair.

The point of this exercise is to show that although our skin is one continuous organ - yes, it’s an organ and the largest one, to boot! -  it’s unique. Unlike the other organs in your body, it has a wide range of textures, sports varying degrees of hairiness, and comes in a beautiful assortment of colors.

We’ve already discussed the embryological development of the skin in April's “Disfigured." As a quick review, skin arises from the ectoderm, that outermost germ layer from which many of the external features develop, such as hair and nails. The skin is composed of three layers: the epidermis (outermost layer), the dermis (middle layer), and the subcutaneous (you guessed it – the inner layer). The subcutaneous, also known as the hypodermis, contains the nerves, the blood vessels, and the roots of our hair follicles.

This layering becomes significant in the cases of burns. A burn is categorized according to its depth. First degree burns are superficial and involve only the epidermis; sunburn is a good example. Second degree burns are those that affect the dermal layer and typically produce rubbery, fluid-filled blisters. Third degree burns, also known as “full thickness burns,” penetrate the entire dermis. And finally, the ghastly (but rare) fourth degree burns involve muscle and bone.

Which kind of burn hurts the most, you ask? Surprisingly, it’s the second degree variety, since full thickness burns typically destroy the nerves. No nerves means no pain. It’s at the periphery of the third degree burns, where third fades to second, that the pain resides. And we’re talking major pain.

When we were kids, my sister suffered severe scalds to her lower legs when she climbed up onto the kitchen counter and spilled a pot of boiling water. She developed a whopper of a blister on her foot and I remember the fascinating way it would dimple when I pushed on it with my dainty finger.

If only she had been a rhino. A rhino’s skin is up to five centimeters thick. I bet it’s hard to scald a rhino.

It could have been worse; she could have been a frog. Like many amphibians, our little froggy friends possess the unique ability to absorb water through their skin, which they utilize in place of drinking. They can also breathe through their skin. But, sadly, it’s these amazing gifts that make them so vulnerable to pollution.

And here’s a curious fact: polar bears – the most Caucasian of bears – actually sport black skin under all that white fur! (Word of caution - do NOT Google "naked polar bears"!)

Our skin is an amazing organ. It not only holds everything in place (for the most part), it also protects us from pathogens, regulates our body temperature, and allows us to experience the world around us.

Imagine a world with no sensation, a world devoid of feeling. Think how important human contact is: the warmth of a hug, the thrill of a touch. Yes, we could do with less pain and suffering, but the pain reminds us we are alive. Pain and pleasure ground us to our world and much of that pain and pleasure we experience through that wondrous medium, the skin.