What Next?!

(I am doomed. Fucking doomed....)

D-Day Minus 3: For some strange reason I have a HUGE headache today so I went down to the "First Aid" room and slept for 2hrs while it subsided. I love working for this company! There's an infirmary where I can take a nap during the day if I am feeling sick. UUUUGGGGHHH. I *do* wish this headache, and tired feeling goes away soon coz I can't take pain killers unless it's an opioid. NSAIDs trigger my asthma; and why the FUCK can't I get codeine in this country...

D-Day Minus 2: I noticed a nasty, rash on my back tonight, which I didn't think much of considering that I am allergic to a lot of food. The buggers are itchy and slightly painful. It's probably that Caesar salad at TGIFs that I ate -- it must have been laced with some funky chemical that has caused this ugly skin condition. I took my usual dose of antihistamines and steroid cream, and I am now snug in bed feeling a bit bummed off that I have yet ANOTHER rash. Fuck, when was the last time I had one of these? 3, 4 months ago? Oh yeah, it was just before I went off to the US for a month. Why on earth does humanity put industrial chemicals in my food to make it "look" and "taste" like Caesar salad sauce? Try making it with NATURAL ingredients, not something that comes out of a conical flask!

D-Day Minus 1: Oh shit! There are BLISTERS on the rash today, AND they have spread from my back to my breasts!!! FUCK!!! How can it get worse!! And the burning sensation -- FUCK -- my back feels like I have just sat in the Sahara sunbathing in my string bikini! This is not Kosher, I need to see a dermatologist tomorrow morning, because I could have leprosy or something, and will have to be in quarantine for months!!! What will I do if they put me away with other people with weeping, pussy welts covering their bodies. No one will hug me anymore, no one will touch me anymore, no one will even come close to me...

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

D Day: I ran to the nearest large hospital which just so happens to be only 4 mins walk from my house. I handed my medical insurance card and asked to see a dermatologist. The receptionist made me sit outside Room 2 which was located in a relatively dark corner near the lifts that lead to the inpatient wards. (Maybe they have a special ward for lepers like me!). I was the third person to be called up by the doctor who listened carefully to my symptoms and asked me to show him my nasty rash.

"Herpes."

"'Scuse me? Like, as in VD?" (I know it sounds silly to have a sexually transmitted disease on one's back, but that was all that came to my mind at the time.)

"No, No. Herpes Zoster. Did you have chicken pox as a child? It's the same virus. You have Shingles."

"What? Like what old people get?"

"Well, yes, it is more common in the elderly population, but young people can get them too. But, oooooh, yours is pretty bad. How long have you left it in this condition?"

"Two days."

"Hmmm... I would usually recommend a topical treatment, but this time I think I will prescribe some anti-viral medication. It will take about 2 months to heal; I will give you 7 days of medication, so please come back next week."

"What causes it?"

"Oh, the causes are unknown, some say it's stress, others say that you are genetically prone to redevelop chicken pox, some even say that it's just bad luck."

"Riiiiiggght."

The doctor put some cream on my back and asked how I felt. I was in too much pain to tell him that of course I was feeling like shit with funky blisters across my back and my breasts, but I decided not to considering that he was kind enough to explain my condition carefully, and professionally. It's summer time, it's bikini season, it's time to expose my skin and get a nice suntan... but no. This year there will be no pretty bras, no massages, no beach parties, no intensive yoga, it will be just me waiting for the autumn so that I don't feel out of place wearing long sleeves and thick clothing that covers my erect nipples.