A bath at three in the morning, a summer in bed, a new towel every time: all allude to a luxurious life — one without care for consequence — unnecessary opulence. Yet they represent a colder existence. Waking at three to bathe doesn’t indulge; it soothes and alleviates. Warm water sees that the discomfort subsides but doesn’t change the loss of another hour of sleep. The filled tub facilitates another night, another day. Hidradenitis suppurativa is a dermatological condition marked by lesions on friction worn skin. Causing painful bumps and pus-filled abscesses, these skin malformations wear down; what was a routine task becomes a journey. To shower is to fight tears, pain, and fears. Washing requires a gingerly touch. A wash cloth is my instrument of choice; it like the neurosurgeon’s scalpel must be yielded skillfully. A shower cleans but shouldn’t hurt. Hidradenitis begs to differ. Forget ticking hands. Let the wash cloth heal: take away dried pus and skin remnants. Finish surgery and mark the close of the day’s first battle, but not the last. …show more content…
Walking may be an obstacle but can be surmounted. A penguin’s waddle and a direct path thwart this battle and lead on to the next. Sitting upon inflamed skin elicit no squeal of joy, yet today’s work must be completed. Furthermore, that tender skin is the only barrier between fluid and the outside world; thus, a chair becomes a time-bomb. In addition to skin, sanitary pads and clothing sit between the chair and the fluid inside me; however, their protection is finite. Don’t sit too long, or else dirty the chair. Though the pads feel like a diaper, they comfort and help me emulate the patterns of the unaffected. Then the bell rings: another battle