I have always taken my hands for granted. Not only that, I didn’t like them and I often said so to my friends. I hated my short, stubby fingers, peeling fingernails, freckle-wrinkles. I even did the fake-fingernail thing for awhile, the expensive hand moisturizer-guaranteed-to-remove-freckles-and-age-spots thing. Was I crazy?
It is now two months since this weird disease attacked my hands and now my left foot. I have been back and forth to doctors and have been on steroids, antibiotics and, as of yesterday, anti-fungal and anti-histamine stuff. Pompholyx: interesting word and no definite cure.
How was I to know that a seemingly simple little finger-blister thing, that occurred two months ago, would turn into a recurring nightmare over and over and over again? I can’t do the dishes, open a window or anything else that requires my hands (thank God I can still type). My hands and one foot are bleeding, scabby, blistering, itchy and, therefore, useless!
So please, hands, I’m sorry if I insulted you. In retrospect, I realize you were beautiful, wonderful hands, so please come back so we can be a team again. I never knew how much I needed you until now.
jmgoyder 