My poor mum

I learnt today that a skin condition my mum has had for the last six years is actually something I had for three years in my early twenties. It is debilitating, and painful, and makes your life a living hell. I didn't realise it was the same thing because I'd only ever had it labelled "dermatitis" by the doctors. The doctors have told my mum it isn't something they can get rid off, and the only mainstream options they have is high dose steroid cream. To be used forever. Because that's safe. Yep. It is curable, I know this. I know this because in my ignorance of it's label, and therefore it's in-curability, I cured it. Trial, error, and three years of immense pain and skin that would break and bleed under the slightest provocation. Seriously, if it didn't like the program on the TV, I was in for A BAD TIME. But I cured it. So I know, that regardless of what any fucking doctor tells you, that it is treatable. It is curable. My mum has had to deal with this for six years. We need to fix this. We will fix this. Because it is not okay. Being that ill is not okay. I'm not any more, and I never will be again. And I'm going to fix my mum.