When my own mother hit 43, I was a know-it-all college student, and to my youthful eyes, she seemed hopelessly outdated. After all, she was a chain smoker who loved Hill Street Blues and rocked out to Eric Clapton on a stereo that could rival a small car. My friends, however, disagreed. “She’s so young,” they would exclaim, as their parents were mostly nearing 60, far too conservative to indulge in smoking or enjoy Clapton’s past with a band called Cream.
Now, here I am at 43, with two equally self-assured kids. I like to think that thanks to some clever hair dye and my stubborn blackhead, I look younger than my years. I dress the part too, clinging to my trusty Converse and hoodie, much like I did while rolling my eyes at my ancient mom. I even act younger, enjoying a good laugh at my children’s antics, including their bodily noises.
However, today, I received a diagnosis that I believed was reserved for the elderly. A painful condition has emerged on my youthful back, and it hurts like crazy.
As a child, I remember hearing with hushed sympathy that my grandmother had a flare-up of the dreaded skin condition named after shingles—the material that kept our roof intact during rainstorms. I pictured Grandma Helen’s skin flaking off in layers until her back looked like a slanted roof.
While waiting at the pharmacy, I often kill time by reading the pamphlet about shingles prevention that’s always on display. The pages show older adults in various states of distress, debating whether they need to consult their doctors about this alarming issue, as Merck Pharmaceuticals (the pamphlet’s publisher and shingles vaccine maker) strongly advises. I thought shingles, much like bladder control issues and osteoporosis, was just an old folks’ problem.
That was until I asked my husband to check out the hot rash on my back. “Oh my gosh,” he exclaimed in his usual supportive manner.
“Whoa, Mom,” my teenage son chimed in, after demanding to see what was causing the commotion. “That looks horrible. Are you dying?”
“Gross,” my preteen daughter added.
Feeling unsupported, I turned to Google, the ever-judgment-free source, typing in “hot rash back lumpy.” The amateur diagnosis? Shingles.
Shingles?! I’m too young for that!
But when the nurse practitioner at the Minute Clinic took a look, she opened with “herpes.”
Herpes?! I’m too old for herpes!
“Herpes zoster,” she clarified. “That’s the medical term for shingles.”
Great.
I called my mom. “Hey, Mom, when did you first get shingles?”
“Shingles?” she asked, confused. At 65, after two kids and four grandkids, her memory is a bit hazy. “You must be mistaken, Angela. I’ve never had shingles. Your grandmother, though….”
Gritting my teeth, I drove to the pharmacy, where the Merck pamphlet seemed to laugh at me from the display by the blood pressure machine (which, by the way, was reading higher than I’d like). The pharmacist, who I’ve relied on for years, said he had to fill my prescription with the name brand instead of the generic because it was out of stock. “Did everyone get shingles at once?” I joked, hoping to prove that my sense of humor still made me youthful.
He shook his head and whispered, “We’re out of generic valacyclovir because so many people have come in for, well… outbreaks.” His tone felt conspiratorial, almost welcoming, as if I was being initiated into a secret club.
I have a good rapport with this pharmacist, but he’s definitely 60 if he’s a day. I don’t want to be in a club that has him as a member. His assumption that I wasn’t a wild partygoer catching an STI at a trendy swingers’ event felt off—after all, even those who party wear hoodies when they grab prescriptions!
“It’s pretty painful, isn’t it?” he noted, seeing the tears in my eyes. I nodded and asked for recommendations to soothe my irritated skin. “I like the Aveeno oatmeal bath, and calamine lotion is a classic,” he suggested.
I bought both, along with a six-pack of Ensure, just in case.
This article was originally published on June 8, 2015.
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Summary
At 43, Angela reflects on her misconceptions about aging and health after being diagnosed with shingles, a condition she thought only affected the elderly. Her humorous journey through family dynamics, pharmacy visits, and the surprising realities of health issues offers insight into the experience of being a parent while facing unexpected challenges.