Saga of Sickness - Stage Holy Mackerel

Stage 3: The Experts

At the National Skin Centre, 2 doctors look at me and seem to have a guess of what it is but are also fairly confused by its atypical appearance on my body. Doctor #3 was called in. I was set up for a skin biopsy to confirm my condition as Psoriasis. Till then it was all guesswork.



Stage 4: The Verdict & The Heartbreak

I had a skin biopsy which involved some stitches. Scar for life. Yay.

The skin biopsy showed nothing conclusive. 'Dermatitis' instead. That's just a skin surface problem that shouldnt look as severe as it does. So what do I have? Dunno. How to fix it? Dunno. Trial and error.


Strange lady doctor breaks news awkwardly that they are going to assume I have psoriasis because the tests aren't showing much. So I have to start treatment 3x a week.

What does that mean? Psoriasis is when the immune system is wrongly triggered and overreacting to something scientifically yet unknown. It is an old disease but still not fully understood. It is not contagious. Stress can prompt it, but the hereditary potential was already there. So... I'm allergic to stress?


The Mother Curveball: Psoriasis is a life-long condition. Everything changed.

It can be calmed down but only after u find out the right measure for u, which takes long to figure out. But even then, it is not a permanent cure. I cried hard. The receptionist sympathized saying she hates seeing pretty girls find out they have psoriasis.

This is where the emotional rollercoasted started speeding up with more and more irregular upturns and downturns.



Stage 5: Drinking Sunshine & Sucking Blood

3 times a week, I am beckoned to a place irritatingly hard to get to, to stand naked in a box that shines the suns rays on me. I get a suntan but an slightly increased risk of skin cancer. 2 hours of travelling for 2 mins of sunlight.

They set me up with a new doctor, far more attentive, who did some bloodtests and confirmed my suspicion that pple might judge me due to the rash's resemblance to a particularly frowned upon disease. The tests all came back showing that I was normal and had nothing to worry about. But the fear of a stigma I didn't remotely deserve was wedged in my mind. More mindtricks. And a survey to confirm that I will face more psychosocial problems due to my perceived. And an admittance to my mother that I was afraid of looking for new jobs and entering the professional world looking like I do.



Stage 5: The Surprise Needle

Then I had something rather gross n fascinating happen. I got a piercing on my upper ear. It typically takes 2 weeks to heal. I let it be for 1 month.

Then, I turned it the opposite way so the stud is on the outside and the backing is on the inside of my ear. In 1 and a half days, my skin managed to grow over it and it got embedded inside. How sick is that?

I went to the doctor, who laughed at me 'Everyday new problem, ah you?' To which I said "Yes, isn't my life fantastic?". It was a fun surgery, although painful, as the doctors and nurses were all young and funny, discussing piercings and beauty.


So I went to my doctor and

Chronicles - Stages Whoa to Whoaer

Stage 1: The Biatch

Red spots appear on my belly. I wait for the rash to go away. But it spreads to my back. I go to the doctor. Diagonosis - Pityriasis Rosea. "Just wait for it to go away, it'll disappear itself, no scars. 3 weeks to 6 months". 6 months?? What the fook? I have a date in 2 days!

I see her for 3 months and she has me on regular medication. It seems to get better. But then it comes back worse.

Curveball: Diagnosis was wrong. The meds are steroids and messes up my hormones. Each appointment, every 2-3weeks, costed about $60, only to make it worse.



Stage 2: The Others

I am sent to the polyclinic to get a referral for the skin centre. The doctor's jaw drops when he sees my meds. He calls a senior doctor. I am instructed to ease off the meds asap. I am terrified.

Curveball: Appointment is set for mid February, 3 months away.



I have a cold and see my regular doctor who usually has no expression. His eyes are wide open and he is at the edge of his seat.

Curveball: The steroids are 4x the normal dosage and lasted too long. Side effects have given me crazy food cravings and a 'moonface'. Now I'm being fattened and the one exercise I like - swimming- is no longer an option as I am to avoid the sun, chlorine and scaring people out of pools.



I have a ridiculously high fever and go to see the trusted family doctor of the ENTIRE family clan, on New Year's Eve. He is expensive but all-wise.

Curveball: He says "When u find out what it is, let me know". Classic. He says no milk, no juice.

Chronicles of the pox

Several months ago, I put down the pen because my 'cathartic writing' was somewhat destructive. I've kept journals since I was 9, so a break was a big deal. I was doing great at it. Now, I have to write because I am not making mountains out of molehills. I am actually traversing mountains. So...

I will keep accounts of the changes in my situation, particularly that of my illness that has sent me whirling in circles. From the looks of things (and how many unexpected curveballs I've been dealt), there's gonna be more drama.

I'm not sure who is going to read this. But I feel like I need to get it down. And there are other people who are ill, and write about it to get advice and console others etc. And just so my friends understand me I guess.

I appreciate comments, but I will admit that I can't handle harsh ones. So resist.



Here begins the story of my now.