You are the quarter-shaped lesion that appeared on my forehead a few weeks ago out of nowhere. At first, I thought you were skin cancer, but when I treated you to a dose of Neosporin—which, out of an abundance of caution, I smeared all over my forehead—I awoke the next morning with raging blisters across my face. By Monday, my eye was swollen shut. At first, the doctors said you were an allergic reaction to Neosporin, but when I stumbled half-blind into the ER a few days later, I learned you were the dreaded shingles. I’ve taken my pills and have been using the steroid cream religiously, but you still won’t go away, nor will the pain. I am slowly losing my mind. Shoo, shingles, shoo!
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