I have diagnosed myself with allergic contact dermatitis, caused by a reaction to the adhesive in band-aids. The question is whether I should see my doctor, for the dermatitis, as well as the port incision, which hasn't healed. In researching on the net I found very interesting things. I found a discussion group in which people talked about latex allergy, which I don't have (according to me). One person said he was allergic to latex and when he was in high school he once wore a condom on his foot all day to see if he would react. He didn't, and so he knew he could wear a condom where it is more customarily worn. There's a connection between latex allergy and allergy to mangoes, because the proteins in them are similar. I was interested to see that a number of people on-line had a reaction for the first time, as adults, to band-aids, both to the latex and the adhesive.
I've been reading about hives, which I thought came only in the form of bumps like mosquito bites. But they come in other forms. To wit: "The term physical urticaria refers to hives produced by direct physical stimulation of the skin. By far the most common form is 'dermographia,' which literally means 'skin writing.' This is an exaggerated form of what happens to anyone when their skin is scratched or rubbed: a red welt appears at the line of the scratch. In dermographia, raised, itchy red welts with adjacent flares appear wherever the skin is scratched or where belts and other articles of clothing rub against the skin, causing mast cells to leak histamine." That's from medicinenet.com. I do have the red welts. A medical dictionary tells me that a flare is "an area of skin flush resulting from and spreading out from a local center of vascular dilation and hyperemia," and I think I have that, too. So now that the deliberate skin writing has faded from my head, it's finding its way onto my chest. Psychics also talk about skin writing. From what I read, I think that a message appears for a short time on the skin of a "sensitive."
What is the writing on my chest? It says, I am sensitive. I am itching. I am mired down. I am turning on myself. I am allergic. I am overreacting. Allergy is an overreaction, the body gearing up to fight what it perceives as a dangerous foreign body. (But self, can't you see, it's just the stuff that makes the band-aid stay on; and it's just pollen, and mold and dust mites; what harm could they do?) Cancer is overproduction, the assembly belt gone haywire, cells gone wild. The sorceror's broom wheeling out of control when the apprentice thinks he knows enough. Too much too much too many. Let's cut it out. Let's bombard it with poison. And wait.
READ MORE - Skin Writing
I've been reading about hives, which I thought came only in the form of bumps like mosquito bites. But they come in other forms. To wit: "The term physical urticaria refers to hives produced by direct physical stimulation of the skin. By far the most common form is 'dermographia,' which literally means 'skin writing.' This is an exaggerated form of what happens to anyone when their skin is scratched or rubbed: a red welt appears at the line of the scratch. In dermographia, raised, itchy red welts with adjacent flares appear wherever the skin is scratched or where belts and other articles of clothing rub against the skin, causing mast cells to leak histamine." That's from medicinenet.com. I do have the red welts. A medical dictionary tells me that a flare is "an area of skin flush resulting from and spreading out from a local center of vascular dilation and hyperemia," and I think I have that, too. So now that the deliberate skin writing has faded from my head, it's finding its way onto my chest. Psychics also talk about skin writing. From what I read, I think that a message appears for a short time on the skin of a "sensitive."
What is the writing on my chest? It says, I am sensitive. I am itching. I am mired down. I am turning on myself. I am allergic. I am overreacting. Allergy is an overreaction, the body gearing up to fight what it perceives as a dangerous foreign body. (But self, can't you see, it's just the stuff that makes the band-aid stay on; and it's just pollen, and mold and dust mites; what harm could they do?) Cancer is overproduction, the assembly belt gone haywire, cells gone wild. The sorceror's broom wheeling out of control when the apprentice thinks he knows enough. Too much too much too many. Let's cut it out. Let's bombard it with poison. And wait.
