Colm O'Regan: I have shingles. It feels like a disease from another era

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Shingles: The name lulls you into underestimating it. It rhymes with nice things like mingles and jingles and tingles. Its singular is just “a beach which is armoured with pebbles or small- to medium-sized cobbles”. But shingles is no walk by the shore, you’re advised not to mingle, the only tingle is the possible early sign it’s on the way and the jingle is the bell you toll to warn people away.

It’s a wonder shingles hasn’t been banned or that we haven’t had a referendum against it. It feels like a disease from another era. A curse. If you got chickenpox earlier in your life, the virus lurks somewhere in your cells. The varicella zoster virus, which causes chickenpox, then suddenly comes to life when you’re run down, or for the laugh, and it becomes shingles.

It’s the disease equivalent of the Stone Roses lyric from the song I Wanna Be Adored, “I don’t have to sell my soul. He’s already in me.” Shingles is a vestige of original sin. Like the time Eve ate the apple and caught chickenpox off it.

The jaunty word shingles comes from the Latin for belt cingulum because the shingles rash appears in the shape of a belt around the body. Who writes this stuff? Dan Brown? And then… And THEN, as if it wasn’t Da Vinci code enough, shingles only occur one on side of your body. Excuse me? Because your body is a battleground between good and evil? Are the angel and devil on your shoulder struggling for control of your soul? Of course, scientists with their ‘knowledge’ and ‘facts’, say it’s because the virus only travels in specific nerves and since the nervous system is symmetrical on a line along the spine, the virus will only travel along one side. But I prefer to believe Lucifer and Gabriel have decided my body is the temple to be the perfect venue for The Fight.

Apparently, there’s a bit more of it going around because a lot of people’s systems were run down after covid, so varicella-zoster is just rubbing its hands, sorry its hand, together. And sure enough, I had got the omicron a few weeks before. What I thought was a handy enough dose. I’ll be grand.

But I wasn’t grand. Shingles shnuck in. For a few days the most painful ****ing, ****ing **** of a ****. Like a swanky new dishwasher tablet, it works on two levels. The sores on your skin are sore in their own right (or left) but deep down it hits the nerves as well for the Refreshing Deep Pain Effect.

I was walking at an angle to the world for a week. It was enough to make a grown man visit the doctor. That’s how bad the pain was. As a matter of fact, the clinic I went to was near a petrol station. Men will literally do anything to avoid going to a petrol station these days. Even if it means looking after their own health.

As usual, when A Crap Thing happens to someone for whom things are generally ok, I have some small smidges of extra understanding. The first is about Long. Shingles is one of those Long Diseases, Long Chickenpox. Long before Long Covid was mentioned, the world was full of diseases which are just long versions of the Original Bad Thing. And the other thing is about pain. I’ve been so lucky with how pain-free my life has been. Pain is a pain. You can’t explain to strangers why you look to be in an absolute fouler. Or why you’re cross with your children for perfectly reasonable requests. All around are people you just thought were a bit sore at you but they’re actually just sore.

Shingles. Avoid it like the plague.