I had a rash on my arms a few years ago. It looked a lot like poison oak, but was a reaction to a weedy grass that grows in my yard. Years of experience has taught me this. If I wear long sleeves, and scrub with lots of soap after weeding, then the rash is not as bad. But back then, I didn’t know that.
The itch was terrible, and there were little blisters, just like with poison oak. It was in patches, a bit pinker than the rest of the skin. All I wanted was some lotion that worked better than the over the counter products.
My internist, a woman this time, started off briskly enough, reading the nurse’s notes, and asking where the rash might be. I held up my arms. She retreated.
By this I meant she took two or three steps back. The rest of the visit was conducted with this distance, and when she referred to the rash, she kind of waved her pen in the direction of my poor arms.
Now if I had a brown recluse spider bite that I neglected, or some other gangrenous wound, maybe I would have understood.
I didn’t go back to her either, and my internist options became very limited.