April: Seeking help

Good Friday - a day about sacrifice and reflection, marked by fasting and prayer, remembering Jesus' sacrifice. I am not a Christian myself, but I learnt about the significance of Easter from some of my colleagues. Good Friday reminds us of the silent sacrifice that comes with loss, where Easter signifies renewal, hope, and joy of new beginnings. And also, Good Friday brought a small holiday, which was very much needed for my energy renewal because of the fast-paced workload lately.

Also, the holiday became more exciting because one of my colleagues invited me to their housewarming party as they bought a house a few weeks back. Normally, I avoid such parties, but since it was a low-profile, small gathering type, I said yes. I was welcomed by all of them with so much love and warmth that I didn't realize I was far away from my own home. The house was indeed beautiful and every brick on that house seemed to shout its expensiveness. The interior, the architecture, decor, furnishing, and ornamentation were incredibly pretty, but the people inside were even more beautiful and loving. My colleague's 14-year-old daughter was fan-girling over me, but I guess this is quite common among teenage girls quietly noticing the quote unquote "fascinating-adult-world" that they dream about.

We were offered plenty of things to eat and drink, and it was like sharing happy moments. At around 9:30 p.m. I asked their permission to leave, not because I was bored but because I was too tired to stay up late. I know it's strange, but I can't figure out if this is just age or simply my routine, because by 9:30 every night, I am half asleep. So I came back with all good memories until I saw my reflection in the mirror. I thought I could figure it all out on my own, but after weeks of waiting, watching, and ignoring the small nudges inside me, I realized that sometimes patience isn't enough. But that evening, staring at my reflection, I finally admitted: Maybe it's time to ask for help.

But consulting a doctor in a metropolitan city, where even for a small heat rash we're supposed to pay thousands of bucks, finding a doctor became too confusing for me. I have a dermatologist back in my hometown for whom my faith runs deep, but consulting him would cost me time, energy, and trivial travel expenses, so I brushed off the thought and started researching for a doctor nearby. Today, I realize things would have improved earlier if these thoughts hadn't overshadowed my mind. Anyways, so after inquiring with some of my colleagues and doing my research, I finally booked an appointment at a hospital specifically formulated for skin problems. I'd rather not mention their name and address for privacy reasons, but the hospital seemed quite a good one.

I went to the reception regarding my appointment, and I was told about two kinds of registration fees - 800 rupees and 400 rupees, to which I asked about the difference. They brushed it off by saying it wasn't any different, but their eyes quietly revealed something about the class. Anyways, I registered for the latter one. The 400-rupee consultation line was quite big compared to the 800 one, so after waiting for about half an hour, my name was finally called out by the doctor. The lady doctor was sweet as she checked my face on both sides. She asked me about anything particular I applied on my face or my hair, to which I told her about my Heena application, which I mixed up with Indigo for some better results. She immediately identified the culprit and told me that Indigo had caused an allergic reaction on my hairline, because of which these red marks were appearing. She informed me that I had been affected by Post-Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation (PIH), for which she wrote down plenty of medicines on my card. The name itself was giving me chills, and I hesitantly asked her if it was curable. She told me it can be cured only if I properly protect my skin from sun exposure and apply the recommended creams on my face.

I came out of her chamber with a relaxed face and a certainty that the marks would go away after some time. But what to do about the medicines she listed, I thought to myself. One of the frustrated nurses was calling out every patient coming out of the chamber to explain the usage of prescribed medicines. I hid myself behind the pillar and googled the medicines to know whether it was suitable for the skin or not. For the past couple of weeks, I have been researching my skin condition and came across several videos telling me never to use steroid-based creams on my face. And after searching, I realised that some of the medicines had steroids. Again, my overthinking brain was active, and I was so confused to buy all the meds or not. Finally, I decided to leave the hospital without buying any meds for myself. I wasn't satisfied with the prescription, but there was one cream in common, "Kojitin Ultra Gel" that I felt was too safe to use.

So I finally brought the cream from the nearest pharmacy and started using it on my face. I had no idea when it would get improved, nor did I know what else was waiting for me. Maybe that's what seeking help is - taking a step without an answer and just trusting the process.

With love,

AY