The shingles talking

So, it feels different each time.

Overall, it's pretty sore. Like a burn, or a raw wound, with an abrasion-like overtone.

Sometimes it peaks in little electric stabs, like a red ant bite - sharp, acute, and gone as soon as it came. I push my shoulders forward and stretch my neck. Because pain is tiring.

Sometimes it's a dull itch. The one that hits you at the back of the throat, the insatiable one that taunts you to scratch. I try to push back into the backrest, hoping the cold of wood or the soft of the cushion would somehow translate the discomfort into... I don't know. Something else.

The worst ones are the ones that resonate from the inside of my spine. They catch my breath and make me gasp. They ring through my right shoulder and make my armpit burn. I call them good vibrations just because they are absolutely horrible.

Right now, it's a throbbing pain. It ebbs and it flows. It makes me wince and shift in my seat. It makes me wonder if I should go see that doctor after all.

And other times, it's just a generous mixture of everything.

I know this sounds gross. And I know this makes no sense, but I kinda like my shingles. I like feeling these curious sensations. I squirm in my seat at work but I feel like I have a secret, and that makes me proud. It gives me something to think about, they make me feel strong. Like a warrior. A shingles warrior.

And I'm going to beat this. Without the antibiotics. I'm going to do it.