So summer is finally kicking in. After a long and gloomy
winter, I was looking forward to nice and bright summer days. The problem is
that with summer comes heat, and with heat come my allergies. My arms start
itching and bumping up when exposed to 80+ degree weather, and if I don’t cool
down fast enough, it starts to spread.
At first, the reaction is mild, almost unnoticeable. But
when you’ve seen the ugly side of it, you start to panic as soon as you feel it
coming. It just sucks. It is uncomfortable, irritating, unattractive, and sad.
At times when the weather is at its best and everyone wants to enjoy the
outdoors, my body forces me to be locked in an icebox. Thus, making my favorite
season the most painful to live through.
Two summers ago I went to the doctor in search for a
solution. He literally prescribed me an air conditioner. Is this for real? In
the 21st century, all a doctor can tell me is to stay cool? This
morning, hoping medicine had advanced some, I went to a local pharmacy on my way
to work, showed a pharmacist my arm, and asked what she would recommend. After
making a very distinctive “that’s nothing” face, she said that “a little
hydrocortisone will take care of it.” No, genius. It won’t. I have tried
EVERYTHING. Just because it doesn’t seem that bad, it doesn’t mean that it
isn’t. Granted I could not blame her because she did not have the full story
(and she was not a doctor), I was extremely irritated by her response because
that is the response I get from everyone.
The truth is that life goes on for anyone not feeling what you feel. But still, why is it that humans innately don’t give a crap? That unless things look so absolutely terrible, we cannot be moved? I am guilty of it too. People around me complain about headaches quite often, and as society has taught me, I usually throw a sympathy one-liner and move on because headaches are not a big deal.
Part of our uncaring response has to do with how we express
pain. Perhaps we are so focused on what we are feeling that we are incapable of
describing it in a way that others can understand and relate to. After all, how
would you “describe” a headache? But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter
how the sufferer describes his/her situation. We have all been there in one way
or the other, and should be able to recall. So next time someone around you
complains about something, even if it does not seem like a major concern to you,
put yourself in his or her shoes, and rethink your response.
Finding someone that appears to care is so comforting that
the experience alone makes us feel better. I believe we can fight illness by simply caring a little more.
