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Sweaty Words: Embracing My Condition

I have been seriously debating if the words I'm writing are meant to be shared… hey! I see you all, it's not that kind of post. So, keep your hands on your book. But, oh well… here goes nothing.



“To be vulnerable is a strenght most of us fear.”

–Rebeca Ross


Clammy Gal

Writing this post scares the sh!t out of me… or well, posting it… or both… I don't know, haha. This post may have nothing to do with books... or it may... depending on how you see it. I only ask that if you’re going to read today's post, consider that the person who wrote it is a real person with emotions and feelings.

 

I have been seriously debating if the words I'm writing are meant to be shared… hey! I see you all, it's not that kind of post. So, keep your hands on your book. But, oh well… here goes nothing.

 

You probably saw my amazing story a week ago… and if not, let me embarrass myself once again (because it's what I do best). Last week, I shared a story where I was in a wheelchair, quoting, "Wel… today ha been interstin to say the leat" (the grammatical errors were indeed not an error). I was just coming out of a procedure they did to me, and my drugged self didn't think about it when posting that photo. Now, you're questioning yourself: why? Why would I post something so dumb? The real answer is that I wasn't thinking clearly, but now, looking at it in hindsight, it has compelled me to write this post.

 

For as long as I can remember, I've had this condition where my hands sweat more than a normal person's. And I don't mean like when we read that the character is nervous and her hands get clammy. Nope. It was like Niagara Falls invaded my hands to create a new waterfall—that bad.

 

6-year-old and 16-year-old Gal are freaking out (while 27-year-old Gal is on the verge of tears). The procedure I had was to treat something I've been ashamed of my entire life, for which I've been pointed at, mocked, and looked down upon. In dance class, kids wouldn't hold my hand because they said I had put them in the toilet (kids can be vicious little creatures).

 

Just to say that reading was torture. I couldn't read if I didn't have latex gloves on. Imagine! Not being able to read because I SOAKED the pages. Even now, writing this, I feel awfully mortified. It has been my BIGGEST secret. My personal disgrace.


Before the procedure

My trusty latex gloves

After the procedure

For years, there was no solution, no light at the end of the tunnel. Until a couple of years ago, my dermatologist told me I could inject Botox into my hands. It wouldn't be a permanent treatment. I would have to do it every 6 months.

 

I thought about it a lot. I talked to my parents. We said it would be a good solution. And why didn't I do it right away? Well, that's something my family keeps asking me. And there's no single answer. The treatment isn't cheap, considering that I would have to pay every time I do it, and I've never been a person who puts my needs first. I always said I would do it after [insert any excuse]... there were discussions about why I didn't do it. If it was because I didn't love myself or because I didn't take care of myself. And yes, partly that's true.

 

And what changed for me to decide to do it? I honestly don't know. The sweating has become more complicated and has invaded my life as the years go by. It's become much more aggressive, and it hasn't stopped. It didn't matter if it was cold or hot; or if I was nervous or not, I was always sweating. I was genuinely tired of not being able to touch my books with my hands, feel their delicate cotton pages, and always being careful not to grab the books if my hands were wet so as not to damage them. If there is a hell for readers, it is this: not being able to enjoy reading as one should.

 

After a week, my life has changed drastically. I no longer have to plan when to read to run for latex gloves. I no longer need a towel next to me when I work to dry my computer. And even though my hands now get clammy, it can't be compared to what it was before.

 

Even though there are certain side effects, and I'll have to do it for the rest of my life, I appreciate the insistence of my siblings and my parents for encouraging me to do it. Because I genuinely hope that this changes my life as it has this week.

 

With love,

Gal

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