Early last week, I had a bad headache, earache and an uncomfortable patch on my scalp. Then on Wednesday, I woke up with some bright red blotches on my forehead. Now, because I am a medically trained doctor who did my residency in “Bitch Knows Everything,” I chalked it up to the following:
Headache = Listening to constant kid cries/not enough wine/my period/too much wine/brain tumor per Dr. WebMD
Earache= Listening to constant kid cries/swimmer’s ear/build-up of earwax or some shit/brain tumor per Dr. WebMD
Scalp= Sunburnt scalp/brain tumor per Dr. WebMD
Red Blotchy Skin = eczema/brain tumor per Dr. WebMD
I decided to go to my dermatologist because I figured she could pump me up with some creams and a pep talk about how pretty I’d be again, but instead she sat down, sighed and said: “You have shingles.”
By that evening, shit got real and it’s been mostly downhill since then. I thought shingles was just adult chickenpox, but apparently it’s much more awful than that. Mainly because you get chickenpox in kindergarten (or used to anyway? They have a vaccine for it now so go science!) when no one gives a true crap about what you look like. When you have shingles, you’re a fully-functioning adult that still has to be seen in public by other fully-functioning and judgmental adults. It’s just awful.
My red blotches quickly evolved into a deep, painful rash that looked and felt like someone had poured acid on my face. Supposedly the virus sits on a set of nerves so I keep having incredibly painful spasms on the right side of my face that painkillers are very slow in actually killing.
Shingles usually lasts from 2-4 weeks which is great because I was wondering what kind of impression I could make on my co-workers that I haven’t seen in a year when I return to work next week and bam, why not oozing blisters and hardened scabs? People are going to be scramming to make sure their desk is right next to mine.
I think it’s starting to look a little better, but that’s like saying Freddy Krueger’s face looks a little better after a facial—not that good at all.
Now because my meds are finally starting to work, I must end this here, go to bed to watch “Scandal” and think about my head buried in a pile of snow to deter the real feeling of it being burned to a crisp.
OH and since I didn’t want this to be a picture-less post, but I also didn’t want to include a picture of my own face (those are reserved for my VERY lucky family and friends when I ask them over text to critique whether the rash has progressed), I thought I’d include this picture:
There, now every time you see an adorable kitten or puppy, you’ll think of my shingles. Isn’t that great?!