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Never to be talked about again

One of the autoimmune disorders I involuntarily managed to contract in the course of time, certainly creating some peculiar challenges, has never been given an official diagnosis beyond the elucidation from the doctor who conducted the most extensive research into it.
His name was dr. Cow, which holds no further bearing to this story, but I never forgot, because for some reason many of my doctors had to have animal names and when you don’t feel well, entertainment proves hard to find, so you quickly settle for anything making you smile.
“Idiopathic inflammation at the cellular level”, he said, staring at my face, looking like it had recently received the worst beating imaginable, rawly swollen and turning blue rapidly.

Whether I liked it or not, by then I’d gotten used to these swellings, increasingly regular appearing all over my body out of nowhere, usually starting with a slight tingling, as a polite but compelling warning sign from outer space that things were going to spiral out of control soon. I had become a master in ignoring the stares and stories people came up with, trying to connect my presumed injuries with my apparent behavioral flaws:
“A fight? Really? Again?”

After having undergone extensive but disheartening inefficacious tests, I was no longer interested in a name for this emerging and alienating condition. I wanted it to be dealt with, gotten rid of, never to be talked about again. This dr. Cow, despite his rather foolish name and likewise vague rendition of my suffering, proved indispensable to this preferred outcome, providing me with the pills that up until today keep the angioedema at bay.

This visually hilarious ordeal, sometimes literally paralyzing me, took years of my life during which I was supported to great extent by good fairies, as they liked to call themselves: dear friends running my life when I physically, financially and morally couldn’t, securing the happier ending I’m living now.

Fairy Duster (Calliandra) might not be the official diagnosis when determining the name of this beautifully flowering plant Ivory recently discovered. If it isn’t, I gladly stand corrected, but this will never hurt my obliged faith in them.

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