Beating Shingles

by Shelley White
^{(creative writers at www.morewriting.co.uk)}
‘Dad, that rash on your chest looks sore,’ I said.

‘It’s very sore, Sarah and painful as well.’

‘Oooh, look at those nasty blotches in it, too,’ said Emma.

‘Why do you keep scratching it, Dad?’ I asked.

‘Because it’s so darned itchy, that’s why!’ Dad’s face turned red then as if he might be going to burst.

‘All right, Dad. I can imagine how it must feel because those blisters of yours look like the ones I had when I caught chickenpox.’

‘That’s not so surprising, actually, Sarah. The doctor said shingles and chickenpox are connected – shingles is actually caused by the chickenpox virus.’

‘Really, Dad?’

‘That’s right, Sarah. She warned me that I’m infectious as well.’

‘How do you mean?’ said Emma, her brow furrowed.

‘Well, she said you can catch chickenpox from someone with shingles.’

‘It’s a good job we’ve all had chickenpox in this family then,’ said Emma looking relieved.

‘Hold on a minute,’ I said. ‘What about Auntie Jean? Has she had it? The baby’s due next month.’

‘I don’t think she has, actually,’ said Dad. ‘Can you phone her, Sarah, and tell her to keep away while I’m infectious?’

‘’Course Dad.’

‘Thanks, Sarah. Look, I’d like a little nap now, girls. Would you mind?’

‘Of course, Dad, sorry to tire you out with all these questions,’ I said adjusting his pillows.

‘It’s OK, sweetheart. Come back and see me later.’

Emma and I went downstairs to get some lunch. I thought about what Dad had said and started to put two and two together. I could feel my forehead starting to sweat.

‘Emma, how do you think Dad got shingles?’

‘You heard what he said – he must have caught it because you had chickenpox recently.’

‘That’s what I thought. Oh, no!’

I could feel tears running down my cheeks. I was already sorry about Dad’s shingles and all the pain he was suffering without finding out that it was my fault he’d caught shingles in the first place. I slunk off to my bedroom and threw myself on the bed. Mum heard me crying and came in.

‘What’s the matter, Sarah?’

I told Mum what Emma and I had been discussing. ‘Is that right, Mum? Is there anything I can do to make Dad better?’

‘Look, try not to get upset. I’m sure you’ve got that wrong. Why don’t we see what we can find out about shingles from the internet? We’ll sort something out.’

We switched on the computer and soon found lots of information about shingles on a health website.

‘Look at that bit, there, Sarah.’ Mum pointed to the screen and read out - Shingles is an infection caused by a virus, the varicella-zoster. It’s the reactivated chickenpox virus that comes back to the skin surface often years after someone first caught chickenpox.

‘The reactivated chickenpox virus?’

‘Yes and look at this. It says you can’t catch shingles from someone with else with chickenpox or shingles.’

‘So Dad couldn’t have caught shingles from my having chickenpox.’

‘No, he couldn’t. He must have had chickenpox long ago – probably when he was a child – but now for some reason the virus has been reactivated and come back as shingles.’

‘I understand it now, Mum and I feel a lot better. I’m glad Emma and I got it wrong.’

‘All right. It goes to show you shouldn’t jump to conclusions, should you?’

‘No, Mum, you’re right – as usual! Can I print off some of that info, Mum? I want to show Emma.’

‘Sure. There’s also stuff about PHN.’

‘PHN? What’s that, Mum?'

‘Post herpetic neuralgia– that’s the name for unwanted sensations or pain that sometimes follows shingles.’

‘I hope Dad doesn’t get PHN.’

‘So do I. We’d better keep checking how he is. Now, why don’t you go and see if he needs anything?’

I gave Mum a big hug and went and knocked on the bedroom door.

‘Dad, are you asleep?’

‘I’m not now! Come in and sit on the bed.’

‘All right, Dad. Mum and I have been looking up shingles on the internet. I’ve learnt loads.’

‘Not so excited, Sarah, please, I’m in a lot of pain,’ he said, scratching the red rash that had formed in a band on the right side of his chest.

‘Dad, stop scratching. Some of those blisters in your rash have popped. If you keep on scratching they’ll turn into sores.’

‘You sound just like Mum. I’ll put on some calamine lotion. These ice cubes in this plastic bag give me quite a lot of relief when I lay them on my middle.’

‘Is there anything else you want, Dad?’

‘I feel exhausted and I think I’ve got a slight temperature. Can you pass me those codeine tablets, please? The paracetemol ones don’t seem to be strong enough for me.’

‘Here you are, Dad. Would you like something to eat?’

‘No thanks. I don’t feel hungry.’

‘What about an apple or an orange? That would be refreshing and good for you too.’

‘OK, I might have an apple.’

I think he said that to reassure me that he wasn’t at death’s door.

‘Dad, you know I told you we’ve been checking out shingles on the internet? It’s so that we can try and help you.’

‘I’ll be fine, Sarah. You mustn’t worry. The doctor’s given me some antiviral medicine which should reduce the length and severity of the shingles attack. She said it should work as long as I take the medicine within 72 hours of the symptoms starting.’

‘I’ve been reading about that, Dad. It says the older you are, the more at risk you are of complications developing and the more likely you are to benefit from treatment.’

‘Just a minute. You make me sound ancient.’

‘Well, you’re almost fifty aren’t you?’

‘Yes, but I’m not over the hill yet!’ he managed a smile. ‘I wouldn’t mind a cool glass of orange juice.’

I went and poured Dad some juice and washed some grapes and an apple. I remembered what Gran always says about fresh fruit and vegetables having lots of vitamins that are good for you. I’m not sure if that’s true but it sounds healthy and wouldn’t do Dad any harm.

By the time I returned a few minutes later, Dad’s face was as white as his sheets.

‘Dad, what is it? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

‘It’s this darned pain. It’s excruciating.’

‘The codeine should start working soon, Dad.’

‘I hope so. It feels like I’m being stabbed with a rusty knife. It’s constantly burning and aching. Even my pyjamas are hurting my skin.’

‘You poor thing. Try taking your pyjamas off. That should help. The treatment should start working soon.’

‘It better had.’

‘I’m sure it will, Dad, but if it doesn’t you’ll have to see the doctor again and tell her how bad it is.’

‘I don’t like bothering the doctor.’

‘But the doctor will want to know if the treatment’s working or if there’s anything else she can do to ease the pain for you.’

‘Yes, all right. I know you mean well but I’m tired now. I’d like a nap if you don’t mind.’

‘Sure, Dad. Relax. That website says the pain lessens when you feel drowsy. Maybe you could try some relaxation therapy?’

‘Sarah, please, enough for one day. I’m really tired.’

‘Sorry, it’s only because I’m worried about you. Just shout if there’s anything you want.’

Dad felt much better after about three or four weeks. The pain disappeared and so did the rash. The blisters dried up, formed scabs and gradually faded away. He was left with one or two slight scars where the blisters had been.

He felt well enough to go back to work after about a week. He had more energy then and because his blisters had all dried up the virus couldn’t be passed on from them.

Emma and I both realise now that Dad didn’t catch his shingles from my having chickenpox. We understand how shingles is caused, thanks to all the information Mum and I discovered from the website. I’m so happy Dad’s well again.