As a child I lived at home with my mother and father. At age two I developed atopic eczema. By the age of four the eczema became severe. I was covered from head to ankle in eczema. My hair started to fall out and I had lost my eyebrows. I began being wet wrapped, attending regular appointments at the doctors and Recording a food diary to notice triggers. Nothing was detected.
Often people would look at me as a child in disgust. The most frequent questions were “how did she get burnt”. My mum said I was never bothered by other people’s comments however I could see how this may have upset her.
In primary school I remember having to sit on a chair for carpet and story times. This was because the carpet would often set off the itching. This made it quite obvious to the other children that something made me different to them. They’d often ask “Miss, why is Cheyenne on the chair “. One of the TA’s often called me wriggly worm because I was unable to sit still because I was just so itchy.
At the age of ten years old I moved into my grandmothers house with my younger brother. My eczema began to clear up. I was totally eczema free for years about 12 years. I would only get little mild rashes on small areas of my body every so often which were easily manageable.
At the age of 22 I moved back to my mothers house. The eczema came back. Rashes appeared mainly on my upper lip which was new place, on my thighs, arms and chest. At this point it was definitely still manageable. By 23 the rash was spreading and becoming thicker. I was also experiencing quite a lot of skin shedding. The thought of my skin shedding was quite digesting, I didn’t really understand why it was so rapid.
September 2016 I had got to a point where I wasn’t able to attend work. From then everything went down hill. I was covered from scalp to toe with infected eczema that constantly weeped and cracked. My body was no longer mobile. I literally could not move. The sight of my body began to make me feel so sick and frustrated.
Despite numerous trips to the doctors nothing eased the itch, pain or discomfort.
October 2016 i booked myself into a hotel for a week to try and give myself time alone to heal. I took myself away from negative vibes, all forms of social media and blocked calls . I found myself deteriorating at a fast pace. My brother came to the hotel to drop off some bandages for my legs.
A week later I returned to work. I wasn’t able to walk without limping, lift my arms or remain calm enough not to itch. I was so uncomfortable and in such excruciating pain. That weekend I decided I could no longer work. I couldn’t get out of bed.
My mum came round. She lifted up my covers and was shocked at the sight of my skin. I was shocked at the sight of my skin. I hated the look, it made me feel sick. I wanted to take a blade and scrape it all off.
I only left the house to attend doctors appointment. Getting ready i’d often become anxious and begin to cry. My mum had to help me as I could no longer look after myself and tend to my regular needs. For me this was most frustrating, going from being so independent to having the needs of a baby.
16th January 2017 (dads 49th birthday) I was admitted to hospital. My face looked battered and bruised, all of my skin had fallen off, my body couldn’t retain water, nor could it control it’s own body temperature. My chest kept feeling tight and I was experiencing an irregular heart beat.