New splotches are emerging. I’m bothered by the feeling of my clothes barely touching my skin. It’s like my nerves are on fire, sensitive and irritated by the slightest touch.
The strangest sensation is the simultaneous irritation, burning, itching and intense pleasure. Nothing in the world feels better than scratching the itch. And nothing feels worse. The gnawing, ever-present reminder of the dull irritation during those moments when the inflammation subsides makes me wonder how lepers feel.
I get lengthy periods when it doesn’t bother me at all. Then, with an unconscious motion I find myself scratching, and the flames begin. The rash enters my consciousness and becomes all I can think about. And suddenly there’s a new patch on the other leg. I know this time it’s going to be bad.
I can’t scratch. No no no! It’s the only defense I have. I wait out an excruciating period without scratching, and thankfully, like a headache after some aspirin, I feel the desire subside. I’m saved for a little while.
I’ve heard all the testimonials, the mugwort, the laundry soap baths, the dishwashing liquid, the hot showers, the cold showers, the cortisone cream, the shots, pills, lotions and potions. But what always works best for me is to accept it. Put it in perspective. It’s just a rash. If I don’t scratch it I can’t make it worse and it will go away. I’m always surprised how well it works to be strong and not scratch. Mind over matter. Attitude and self-control will get me through.
