SHINGLES - REALLY?!
/I have shingles, and it is no fun.
First, shingles is supposed to happen to old people. So, now I feel old.
Second, it's painful. Enough said about that.
Anyone who's had chickenpox can get shingles. It's a cruel do-over. The virus reawakens, and travels along your nerves. How fun is that?
It hit me when I was visiting friends who live in the northernmost tip of Maine. A bright-red blistering rash tends to get your attention, even after you've spent an entire day in the woods on an ATV, and feel invincible.
After a midnight diagnosis in a middle-of-nowhere but exceptionally professional ER, I resigned to the 4-6 weeks of recovery. Somewhat.
Three days later I was in court, testifying on a client's behalf. As I sat on the witness stand, I was struck by the irony of the situation. Although I spoke in measured professional tones, underneath my navy blazer and loose dress I was "commando" from the waist up, and covered in angry red welts. No one else knew (except Duncan, who was my co-counsel, and also bound by the marital privilege). It was weird having taken an oath to "tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," yet hiding an ugly reality under my lawyerly attire.
Occasionally, when I look at my ulcerated midriff, I'm transported back to my six-year-old poxed self, and the smell of Calamine lotion. My clearest memory is sitting in a cool bath, with my three sweet sisters taking care of me. But most of the time I just want this canker-ridden ordeal to be over. Fast.
The biggest disappointment is that I can't see my infant granddaughter, Rose. Peek-a-boo by FaceTime just isn't the same. Plus, I miss her smell.
There's nothing ordinary about shingles. Like so many illnesses, it simply (or, more often, not so simply) needs to be endured. But yesterday, Duncan brought me breakfast in bed, and today we are sitting in the garden, sipping tea. My ever-so-kind mother-in-law made me homemade tapioca, and my neighbors and friends are checking in.
Getting shingles has reminded me that it's the people who love you that make life extraordinary. Those people who surround you when the chips are down, and one-half of your upper body looks like a Rorschach test.
Go hug those people in your life. Now. While you're rash free, and they can hug back.