By the time he visited the doctor, his skin was covered in red, angry welts, and his patience was thinning. The doctor looked him over, furrowing his brow in concern.
“Have you been exposed to anything unusual recently?” the doctor asked, flipping through his notes. “New soaps? Insect bites?”
“No, nothing new,” he replied, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know, it keeps getting worse. I thought it was an allergy, but now I’m not so sure.”
The doctor nodded, taking a careful look at his skin, making notes. “We’ll need to run a few tests,” he said. “This doesn’t look like a typical allergic reaction. It might be something more serious.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Something more serious? Panic flared in his chest. What could it be? What if it was something he couldn’t fix? The itch was driving him to the edge of his sanity, but the fear of what might be causing it was worse.
Days passed, and the tests were run, each appointment only building the anxiety in his chest. He couldn’t stop scratching, the welts spreading, the skin becoming raw. He tried to focus on work, on life, but all he could think about was the unbearable discomfort.
Finally, the doctor called with the results. “We’ve found something,” he said, his tone a mix of reassurance and concern. “It’s not an allergy. You have a rare skin condition known as ‘chronic prurigo.’ It’s not life-threatening, but it’s a long-term condition that causes persistent itching. The exact cause isn’t clear, but it’s often linked to stress or autoimmune responses.”
He sat in stunned silence for a moment, absorbing the news. Chronic prurigo? He had never heard of it before, and it felt surreal to have a name for the affliction that had taken over his life.
The doctor continued, “It’s treatable, but there’s no cure. We’ll need to manage the symptoms with medication and lifestyle changes to keep the itching at bay.”
He nodded, a mix of relief and dread settling in his stomach. The itch wasn’t going away, but at least now he understood it. It wasn’t just in his head. There was a reason for the torment. Now, it was about finding a way to live with it, to take control again, and maybe—just maybe—find some peace from the itch that had once seemed endless.
