Doctor, Doctor...

Well it isn't shingles.

I went to see my own doctor, who may not have the most easy going of bedside manners, but he has that aura of knowledge instead. He studied my skin under magnification and declared that he could see why you might think it was shingles, but it isn't. And he has no idea what it is, just one of those mysteries that don't get solved. Maybe a virus.

It is easy to think that all Doctors are the same. They have the same training. The same skills. The same specialities. The same interests. but they don't. The three doctors at my surgery have very different collections of letters after their names as displayed on their website. I have no idea what they all mean... They also went to different Universities. Every University has things it is good at and not so good at. Then each of those Doctors had things that grabbed their interest, that they continue to read about avidly...

I like that my Doctor is confident enough in his abilities to not make up answers. I like that he accepts there are mysteries. I like that when I had an infected cyst, he was able to whip me to another room with a nurse, give me a local and take the thing out and stitch it up.

So here I am still feeling icky, with my rash now a series of discoloured blobs that don't look so angry... But today I woke up at a more normal time and I don't want to go straight back to sleep. With any luck i won't feel I have to spend half the day asleep again.

I would love to know what is going on with my body, but I guess I never will....