Patch upon Patch
My Journey of healing and acceptance from the stigma of Vitiligo
“The best part about being alive, is living as a ghost”.
— The Coffin man.
I decided to open with this quote from one of the characters I am developing, because he, more than anyone I know has been marginalised, so much that he’s almost out of the page.
Living with Vitiligo has not been easy for me and I presume it’s the same for all who had been branded by it.
I remember the resentment I got from people, they didn’t say it out loud, but I could see it through their eyes, the content of their hearts, that which they were careful enough not to say, well at least for most people. Some were bold enough to express their feelings outrightly.
Scarface’s lament.
Somewhere in September 2017 was when I first noticed a patch of bleached skin that wouldn’t resolve itself, so I took measures into my hands, inadequately, without precision, I did what I thought was best for myself at the time, especially now that I am a Pharmacy Technician student in training.
I was soon to be posted to a health facility not too far from school, it is an infectious disease centre, (Tuberculosis, HIV, Lassa fever and any other infectious disease case that other health facilities throw their way). It was a small clinic with an oddly large land mass, one of the things I noticed upon entry into the second gate of the clinic was the sign that says mortuary.
I could still remember the chill it gave me. I was carrying something this conspicuous on my face, so it was normal to feel that way, no? I remember I tried to defer my posting, but the dean wouldn’t grant my request.
At this point the patches had spread from a small dot to an Egyptian hieroglyph of some sort. It looked like the symbol of the eye of Horus. (It would have passed well for a movie poster).
I felt depressed that it might not go away at all, giving the numerous readings I had done on how it can be a life-long disease condition. I avoided gatherings and open spaces altogether. The thought of wearing make-up seemed like a pleasant idea, I also read about this online, then another thought of people finding out later should I forget to use make-up or it washes off was more depressing in the very brief moment I had to ponder it through. — I also considered it as faking, it was a lot of eruptive emotions all at once.
The end is only the beginning
Let me take you back to the beginning. I grazed my cheek against a wall, a wooden demarcation, as I swam through pitch black darkness to find something, a switch to turn on the power, AC current from a generator set, one of the cons of living in a third world country, supposedly.
My first mistake as often as I tell myself after a series of analysis following the end result, why didn’t I use a torch? It was only a graze, a small mistake that graduated to an even bigger dilemma, one that would soon strike me defenseless.
The injury healed, courtesy of my blood platelets, it was unnoticeable, this mistake should not have resulted to something like this on the days I had the time to reminisce, on some other days my mind was so blank I’d space out from overthinking, but it did and there was nothing I could do to change it.
What’s the way forward then, I had to get this thing off my face, I needed to.
Three stages of grief, but we mostly talk about denial.
I told myself that I wasn’t going to live with this, thhhing! On my face. I had to do something quick and now!
I finally summoned the courage to go to a hospital where I can have an actual professional do their job of assessing and treating me. The first facility didn’t have the necessaries to handle my case, so I was referred to another facility, it’s a tertiary one, meaning this is the last stop so long as the healthcare chain of treatment is concerned, although the previous facility was a tertiary one, but they didn’t have a dermatology centre at the time.
The feeling of not getting a desired result from the referred centre was already eating me up as I tarried far worse than a slug to get there. What if the information from the internet was right, what if I cannot be cured of this?
I told myself that these physicians do not understand how badly I need this scar that leaves a trail behind each step I take off my face.
Now, imagine someone describing you as the guy with the scar on his face.
All of these were former attempts at experimenting with different home remedies. I heard and tried what well-wishers whispered into my ears. “Use honey, honey is good for wound healing” of course we had honey at home, I almost drenched my face in it.
After a few days of consistency, the patches began to spread even more.
What?! What is the meaning of this? I thought honey was supposed to make this go away not make it worse. There were opinions as to why it didn’t work, but I don’t think any of them was relative to the disease condition, now that I know more about it. — I would say it is my exposure to sunlight, because why not, the sun was supposed to return my melanin back.
A funny experience, one time I was on a football field with a couple of unfamiliar mates, one of them came up to me with his phone and said “here, keep this for me” so I asked him what assurance have you that you would give this to me? I am just like any other guy here.
He told me clearly, clearer than daylight itself, that he could easily recognise me. Damn! Just when I was starting to feel like I was chosen, one out of many, that I was singled out as a good person, I only let out a subtle laugh that couldn’t leave my environment.
Yeah! Of course I thought about it, long and hard, before I took my thoughts to the internet again, read a couple of articles, clinical and non-clinical research work, anything for a glimpse of hope to spark a light in my heart before it be corrupted by the darkness that loomed,
They say time heal all wounds, well I guess this is not wrong.
As time goes by, after consuming too many content about the disease condition, I soon became weary, and began to get used to it, I told myself everyday to love who I am and the new development in my life, another chapter of improved self confidence and sense of being, it took a while, but I began to feel good about myself again. — I think I over did it if you ask me.
As I improved my knowledge on the disease condition, I focused more on the positive side. (it is a segmented form of Vitiligo, that only affects a portion of a body part).
I told people I had an injury rather than explain in detail what happened, nobody wants to know, they only want to show their sympathy or act like they care in another narrative I drew up, but inner peace was what I sought after. A series of events happened that made me realize that I was to be calm during the waiting period.
It helps to know that you’re not alone.
A simple analogy to that effect. You will feel more relaxed when you get into trouble with someone else as an accomplice, like a classmate, when you disobey school rules, than when it’s just you.
You know who to express your pain to, it doesn’t make the pain go away, but it makes it more acceptable. At some point I think I began to notice people with the same condition when I was at peace with it.
It had been a rollercoaster ride for me, sometimes I wished the hands of clock could be turned backward. It is in our DNA as humans, the most evolved species on the planet to find a way through pressing circumstances.
Oh, How I long for this phase of my life to be over, I want normalcy.
To end this with a quote as it began with one
“the truth is something that is factually conceivable”
— The apothecary.
I believe the truth lies still, waiting to be uncovered. It is not a blank canvas for you to paint your ideals on, rather a picture for you to reflect upon.
Thank you for seeing me through until the end.
