Saturday 11 January 2020, 11:00am
I think I have Shingles.
From the moment November arrived last year, heralding as it did just one year before all my money runs out and I’m in deep doodoo, my skin erupted in little blisters. They tingle, and hurt sometimes, and go red.
I’m 61 and I look like a teenager with acne.
A very wrinkly lined teenager, with acne.
It’s Stress.
Great.
This is not a good start.
Goodness no! Sometimes, for me, a day at a time get shortened to, “you get to sleep again soon.” I am cheering you on like mad, as I am also following in your footsteps. My lastest fashion statement is belt-tightening of the metaphorical sort. As Michael says, I shall let you.know how I get on….
When my mother had shingles, the thing that helped the most was cold packs. We put a little fridge in her room so she could change them herself. She went to the doctor clutching a cold pack to her side, and me carrying an insulated lunch bag with spares. Bummer, yes! But they gradually faded out.
And you are certainly not alone. I was divorced at 50, that’s a big start over! I got eczema all up and down my legs, and it itched whenever I prepared to call the lawyer, so I knew it was stress. When I was 61 I was in the middle of another restart, having left my moldy house behind and moved in with my Mum, retired when my office got mold, and we were in the midst of a mold crisis in this house. I was beginning to suspect I was starting a new life with chronic illness.
It may not be a good start, but it is a start. The road goes on from there.