...a fitting picture for this post would be my eczema-filled hands but I'll spare you from that awful imagery...
My hands are essential to me. I use it 24/7...8 hours a day, 7 days a week at my day job, I use them to arrange flowers for church and for weddings. I use them to do house chores (when I actually do them). And most importantly to me, I use them to show care and affection to my daughter, Makayla. I don’t see her that much during the day so giving her baths at night is my chance to bond with her. I love holding her hand for walks and giving her big hugs. I’m also on full diaper duty on the weekends (to give daddy a break). So you can imagine how inconvenient it was when my chronic eczema spread all over my hands and in between every finger.
When I said chronic, I meant life-time- had-it-since-birth (or as long as I can remember)-chronic. It comes and goes and appears in different parts of my body – most of the time the most visible parts (ie: forehead, face, neck, hands). For the most part, I have accepted it and have tolerated it all these years. In recent years, it always appeared on my left hand, which I tolerated and used my right (formerly eczema free) hand whenever I have outbreaks (which was pretty often). In fact, I don't remember when my left hand was last eczema free. Anyway, a few months ago, it slowly migrated and invaded my right hand. For those of you who have eczema, you know what I mean …cracked skin, a million tiny blisters waiting to explode with puss, open wounds for days/weeks, can’t wash hands, intense itchiness… Since the recent outbreak, I haven’t been able to give Makayla baths, couldn’t change her diapers or even hold her hand (with all the ointment I have on my hands). Not to mention all the added responsibilities that Abe had to take over due to my unproductive hands!
I’VE HAD IT! (or I should say WE) I was determined to find a cure, to get this healed once in for all. I’ve got to be allergic to something! There’s got to be a reason for this. If I can just find that culprit, I can get rid of this and ‘enjoy life’ again.
So I self-referred to see a dermatologist. Usually appointments are booked months out but I was lucky enough to get in the next day. I’m almost always late to appointments but this time, I was early…so early, I even brought a book to read. Filled with hope and anticipation, I awaited to be seen…
…only to be met by the utmost disappointment…
Dr: …oh that looks like typical eczema to me…you’re born with it, it’s like asthma…it’s intrinsically programmed in you…it’s genetic… it’s how your body reacts…I’m sorry, there’s no cure
Me: …but if I can just find out what I’m allergic to, and the cause of it, maybe I can just eliminate that from my diet or something and it will all go away?...
Dr: no, there’s no cure… I can prescribe you something a lot stronger (than hydrocortisone 2.5%) and some moisturizer to treat the inflammation but there’s really no cure…
These words completely shattered me. Deep down, I’ve known this all along. After all, if there was a cure, my mom would have found it and helped me heal it long time ago when I was little. To hear the doctor say this to me so matter-of-factly just confirmed the inevitable. It’s like a death-sentence or hearing that I have cancer (I know it’s far far far from that but at that moment, it felt like it).
I picked up my ointment from the pharmacy and headed back to work. Somehow the classical music on the radio seemed so much more depressing. The thought of having to deal with this for the rest of my life was somehow affecting me way more than it ever did. The tough side of me said 'just deal with it! You've had this for 30 years already, whats another 50-60 more'. But somehow I was emotional and just had this overcasting sadness about the whole situation.
Then, I thought,
(sarcastically, humorously) hmm…I better start saving up for a lifetime supply of hydrocortisone now…maybe I should coordinate with all my fellow eczema inflicted friends and buy it in bulk and save some money…I should start a eczema support group…i bet there's one already... Then I started to lament
…why God! why! …you know how important my hands are for me…why eczema, why on my hands…why now…why ever…(with some glimpse of hope)…maybe it’s not that bad. As long as I’m good about keeping my hands moisturized, stay away from soaps and water, try not to get stressed, remember self-care…maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe God ‘blessed’ me with this condition so I can share and empathize with others who have it. Maybe it’s a good thing.
Trying to forget all this and get on with my work day, I shared this with my co-worker who was also a Christian. Instead of just nodding and looking empathetic, she offered to pray for me. She said that I don't have to live with it. I was blown away by her faith and humbled by my lack of faith...what makes me think that God can't heal eczema! If God can raise from the dead...oh, yeah, he can heal eczema! So we prayed and somehow, I felt like God was telling me, hey there, I'm still here! Ask me and you'll be surprised what I can do!
So...to fellow eczema suffering friends:
- Hang in there! The bad days will pass!
- Who wants to put in a bulk order of hydrocortisone with me?
- Don't scratch it or else you'll suffer for a really long time!
- Let's join in faith and pray that God will heal our eczema no matter how bad it is. All things are possible with God!
...who would've thought a visit to the dermatologist would result in such deep convictions...
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