Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

Today I found out I have shingles.

I could have headed it off, if I had taken the time on one of our trips to Tucson, to locate a public health center or one of those mini-clinics at Walgreen's, and get a vaccination of Zostavax, like my sister did last summer. I thought of it every time we crossed the border over the last year, but we’ve always been very rushed and it slipped my mind. (I have a very slippery mind.) Zostavax has been recommended by the CDC for everyone over age 60 who has had chicken pox, and please, even if you hate needles—don't procrastinate as I did but get the shot. It will make the difference between normal life and an extended period of pain that has been described by some as "worse than childbirth."

Last June when La Gringa in Honduras had shingles, she felt "excruciating pain...like someone was jabbing me with a sharpened knitting needle." La Gringa's outbreak was on her head; her eyes were threatened, her face was swollen. I've been lucky, in comparison...I've been affected on the right leg, from the lower back and hip to the knee, and my biggest complaint has been sharp muscle spasms that have kept me awake for four nights straight.

Today I went to my friend Lolita in desperation. “Let’s go to Dr. Ocampo,” she suggested, “I need to see him anyway. I'll be your translator.” The nearly two hours we spent in his tiny waiting room were made less onerous by Lolita’s wacky stories about her late husband.

Early in their marriage, he wouldn’t eat anyone else’s cooking. No restaurants, no dining at the homes of friends...”I had to do something!” Lolita said. So on the sly she hired a maid, taught her everything she knew in the kitchen, and then she began making “mistakes” now and then in her own cooking. “Pretty soon,” she said, “he was telling me her cooking was better than mine. He never knew...”

Self-diagnosis is frowned upon, but I had done enough research online to be convinced that the ugly, spreading red blisters on my leg and muscle aches indicated shingles. Dr. Ocampo agreed and gave me a prescription for four meds: two for pain and sleep, and two to fight the virus (one a topical spray and the other a pill.) Most of these medicines are supposed to be taken for three months! He also wants me to take a blood test and said I should wash my hands frequently and try not to touch the blisters or I could spread them to other parts of the body. He also said I'm contagious, at least to anyone who hasn't had smallpox. I asked him about a preventive vaccination and he’d never heard of it.

I dropped Lolita off at her house, headed straight home, took the prescribed doses and fell into bed to enjoy the first deep sleep I’ve had in five days. That’s the first good news. Numero dos: I found that only ten percent of shingles sufferers get it again. Another article said I could still get the shot, once the blisters have healed, just in case I fall into that ten percent.

Should I send Dr. Ocampo the information about Zostavax? I don’t even know if it can be obtained in Mexico, but I found a Spanish article about it that I could print out and give him when I go back next week. I don't want to offend him, but if one future patient can be prevented from what La Gringa and I have experienced, I'll take a chance.

And now, time for another siesta. And please, think about getting that shot.