This week I was inspired by Stephen King’s novel Misery.
Constant Itching is Misery.
My dermatitis was getting worse; a life of misery.
Martha, my treatment nurse, suggested an allergy to soap or detergent.
But which one?
‘I’ve read your book,’ she said.
She used solid ice cream to cool my legs – it was heaven.
‘Perhaps itching powder,’ she stated, and patted my skin dry.
She spread a foul-smelling ointment onto my chest.
‘That makes it worse. It stings!’
‘Painful,’ she said. ‘You mean like Elaine.’
‘Elaine! She is not real, it’s just a story!’
‘Maybe she is the reason for your rash.’ Martha rubbed in the gel. ‘Poor Elaine.’
‘Please stop.’ I screamed.