I like to think I have a high pain tolerance. I’ve been bitten by insects, had broken bones, and have spilled hot oil on myself, but nothing I’ve experienced (as yet) is as painful as the Hell’s Itch.
A few weeks ago I visited CanCon, a board game convention in Canberra. On the final day, the city gave me a parting gift – the reddish-pink hue of a sunburn. I only spent half an hour in the sun walking to and from the car, so it was mild. I’ve been burned plenty of times – it's nothing a bit of aloe vera can’t fix, I naively thought.
Between 24 and 48 hours after my sunburn, my back started to itch and tingle, which wasn’t unusual considering I’d been frequently lathering on aloe vera. As soon as my fingers met the skin, the whole surface of my back was plagued by an itch that was so strong, so painful, that I could do nothing but fall to the floor. It felt like a hoard of fire ants were feasting on the skin of my back, ripping out little chunks of skin with knives along the way.
After a minute or so, the itch became agonizing, causing me to writhe around like a contortionist. The worst part was, I just had to tolerate the pain until it passed. If I dared scratch it, that increased the pain tenfold. All I could do was hold my partner’s hand and cry while my whole body convulsed from the torturous itch.
After the emotional and physical pain of what I’d just experienced, I went to decompress by taking a bath. Not hot or cold, just warm. This was possibly the worst thing I could have done. What I didn’t know, was that if you have the Hell’s Itch, pouring water of any temperature is likely to trigger or exacerbate the pain. As soon as I stepped into the bath, it started over again. All I could do was scream and cry out for my partner as that same tortuous pain overwhelmed me.