As a child, my greatest fear was being kidnapped and tied up -- something that TV indicated is a pretty common occurrence in life. Not because of the scariness or separation from family or the threat of death, but because, being tied up, I wouldn't be able to scratch.
Most people find a shower refreshing. I hate it. It was worse when I was a kid, before I discovered moisturizer. The first hour or two after a shower was spent feeling like whenever I moved my skin would crack open.
The eyes always itched, too. Since at least high school, I'd rub them so hard they'd be bloody red. A co-worker once did an impression of me, the chief feature of which was persistent eye rubbing.
Later on, around the age of 30, either because of the age or due to moving to a different part of the country, with a different climate, more dryness in the air, and far, far more pollutants, the condition became especially aggravated. In the eyes, and on the face. Doctors determined I was allergic to ... everything. Pollen and dust, especially. Meaning it's terrible outside in the spring, summer and fall, when things are growing, and also terrible inside, all year long. The eyes aggravate the skin, and the skin aggravates the eyes.
The condition is also what's known as "atopic." Meaning, basically, any change aggravate things. For instance, when I shave, that aggravates the face. The only thing that feels worse is when I don't shave.
I see one of the very best allergists at one of the very best hospitals in the country. He says I'm a one-in-ten-thousand case. We've done it all -- from dust covers on the bed to every manner of antihistamine, eye drop, inhaler, salve and ointment. They even tried drugs normally given to cancer patients.
The only thing that's helped are two drugs that threaten devastating long-term consequences to my health -- to pretty vital things like my eyes, my liver, my bones, etc. But without them my eyes would be beet red and nearly swollen shut and my face -- it feels like being buried in an ant hill, with fire-ants crawling and biting all over. So that's been my choice -- long-term versus short-term. Oh, the other thing that's great for my skin, besides the harmful drugs? Sunlight! Yum.
This spring seems to be worse than usual. I barely slept at all last night -- I couldn't wait for the morning and my fix.
I saw a great documentary the other night -- Kurt Cobain: About a Son. He talked about the chronic, debilitating, seemingly untreatable stomach pain he suffered from all his life. Heroin was apparently the only thing that made it better (though that's just the kind of justification a drug addict would come up with). At several points in his life he talked about the pain being so bad he sometimes wanted to blow his head off. Ironic, huh?
I don't feel like blowing my head off. Given everything we've tried, I'm under no illusion that even that would get rid of the itching. But I do sometimes find myself wishing we could know when we were destined to die. If was going to die anyway at 50 or 60, I'd be a lot less concerned about the long-term consequences of my choices.
So there ya go.
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