Those two little Band-Aids mean I've spent years in a tortured body. Those two little Band-Aids mean wounds that won't heal, unbearable itching I can't control, scratching that I cannot stop. Those two little Band-Aids mean trying every ointment and cream available, it means changing my diet in hopes of a clue, it means bandaging up my body before bed in hopes that my rash gets relief. Those two little Band-Aids have brought me to my knees, they've made me cry in my Dermatologist's office as a beg for him to tell me why I'm broken.
Those two little Band-Aids mean baths feel like fire, and showers burn and sting, they mean applying lotion from head-to-toe is as vital to my body as food and water.
Those two little Band-Aids made kids ask me what's wrong, they meant peeling off my clothing because my pants would stick to my wounds, they meant wearing clothes that hide my "rough spots".
Those two little Band-Aids mean I've suffered daily, they mean I've fought for a normal life where I don't have to nurture my skin all day, they mean hoping for a cure but knowing that I may never have one.
But today, those two little Band-Aids mean something else. After battling Eczema since I was a baby, I'm trying a new drug designed specifically for me, for "my people"; Dupixent.
Today, those two little Band-Aids symbolize hope.
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