Hands up all those who suffer from eczema. I do. I've had it
since I was a baby. Seemingly for all of my life I've been scratching.
I don't even realise I'm doing it now, it just happens. I itch,
therefore I scratch. Sitting here at the keyboard I stop to think,
and suddenly my hand goes to my shoulder and digs in, ripping
at the skin 'til the pain goes away. But all it does is create
a new pain, and a realisation that I've broken the skin and made
myself bleed. Eczema is a way of life, just like cancer, or AIDS,
that wont ever go away.
Some people who suffer from eczema are lucky. They grow out of
it. Others, like me, never do. For years I've been told by specialists
from Melbourne to Darwin that I may grow out of it, but it has
never happened, and I have lost hope. I can't imagine life without
eczema anyway. Can't imagine not being sore in the morning after
a good (?) night's scratching. Can't imagine having skin like
everyone else's, unbroken, smooth, soft, unscarred. Can't imagine
not having people treat me like I'm different, like a leper, simply
because I may have little red sores all over my face and body.
Doctors don't know how to treat it. I mean, they say "Put
this on it, use this soap, take these anti-histamines..."
but they don't know how to get rid of it. I've had doctors put
me on cortisone, prescribe rohypnol, naturopaths suggest yogurt
baths, and a mother smother me in every concoction promising a
cure under the sun. But there is no cure. At least, no cure in
the land of the living. Oh sure, there's the magical cure, but
who's actually cured themselves using it? I don't know of anyone.
After all, what eczematic can stop themselves scratching?
People don't understand the itch. They just say "Don't scratch,"
but it isn't like that. I tell people to imagine having a million
mosquito bites all over their body, cos that's what it's like
having eczema. Sometimes that makes them think, but they could
never know what it's really like. The knowledge that the itch
wont go away; that it will become unbearably painful until you
let your little fingers rip at it with their long nails. The long
nights of half sleep where you know you're tearing yourself apart,
but aren't conscious enough to stop yourself. The anger at yourself
when you are awake, and keep scratching and scratching and scratching,
the end of the itch never in sight.
I lost most of my self esteem to eczema. No kid who's different
gets by without facing the taunts of the other kids, and I was
different. Not only did I have the tell-tale scabs of eczema,
but I developed another type of dermatitis, which makes it peel
like crazy, leaving me like Josiah Samuel Smith. Kids can be cruel
- Yep! They sure can. But I lived through it, and asthma, oesteoperosis,
migraines, and puberty. Now I look ahead, to the future of itching
and scratching, loves and losses, joy and sorrow. But I know I
shall always have eczema by my side.