P is for Pammy’s Psoriasis’ Pains

Like the usual, I log on to facebook to check some stuff and send messages to some important people. On my news feed, I always see to it that it is sorted to “Top Stories” to see what’s (or who’s) dominating my social account.

A photo captured my attention; A girl in yellow with white spots on her skin. It’s not my thing to write stories on photo, though I’m a writer of sorts, but still it’s not really my cup of tea. At any rate, here I am staring once more to this blank sheet of paper trying to fill it with words and thoughts.

So I browse the page. “I Have Psoriasis,” printed in big and bold letters, is the page’s name. It hit 2, 248 likes and 37 of it are my friends from a church organization. I browse all the pictures too and voila! Is she a model? Or she is a model.

I don’t know what Psor is so I consulted a very dear friend, Google (there are times that I cannot depend on him so I always have Dictionary on my side too.) By definition, Psoriasis is an autoimmune disease that appears on the skin. It occurs when the immune system mistakes the skin cells as a pathogen, and sends out faulty signals that speed up the growth cycle of skin cells.

I still can’t understand what this is but let me proceed. Anyway, this article is about the page, the owner and the advocacy.

After I’ve seen ALL the photos in the page, a crystal fell on my hazelnut eyes. I looked up thinking it was a stupid lizard that peed on me but it was not. Ah, it was a tear. I never knew I have this sensitivity over these people who have these skin problems and the likes. I always have a heart for a friend who’s asking for help on exams and stuff but over these people who have personal problems, I really didn’t know that I have sorts.

First thing first. I do not pity her. I have to admit that at the beginning I really did but after reading the advocacy, I was like “That’s the spirit!”

It’s easy to babble words of advocacy but to show it through deeds is another question. But for this page, “combination” is the perfect word to use.

DARE TO GO OUT

Most people are afraid to show off some of their skin when they go out. I have a friend with a skin allergy and every time we hang out, she is dressed with turtle neck, jeggings and a pair of boots. It’s fashionable though. But c’mon. Short shorts, stilettos and sleeveless are what I call dress. Don’t be scared to go out with these outfits. Anyway, it’s yourself you are dressing and not other people. In the end, it’s always how you carry yourself.

HUG ME

On my readings, Psor is not contagious and hugging is always a good form of developing relationships as it affects the cerebellar brain system, an area of the brain where basic positive emotions such as trust and affection probably come from. Always know that a hug is a universal medicine, it is how we handshake from the heart.

PROSROCKS

Everybody is blessed with different aptitudes and abilities. Some are given difficulties not to make them suffer but to make them realize that life is not just a tree of sweet berries but with rotten fruits as well. Nevertheless, this rotten fruits can still be sold in the world market. Having this kind of disorder is not an impediment to seize the beauty of life. Living with it is beautiful. Be it known that life is like a coffee. Sometimes, we struggle drinking a tasteless coffee but in the last sip, we find sugar, unstirred, at the bottom. Always, we do not know what lies ahead. So just live with it and keep on rocking.

DONE HIDING AND FULFILLING DREAMS

There is nothing to hide. In a vulgar world, hiding is a crime. Secrets are meant to be discovered. And you know what happens to yourself when you keep a secret? It’s like growing a pest inside you. You continuously feed it and soon, it will eat up the whole of you. So spit it out and step on it. It’s not meant to grow. Instead, chase rainbows and take the risks. Life is what you make it.

My accost to Pamela Ellinor Velasco for propagating her words of encouragement. God is with her all along. He will never let her down. I remember a song I learned in Sunday school which goes like this:

He’s able! He’s able! I know He’s able. I know the Lord is able to heal us all. He heals the broken hearted. He sets the captives free. He makes the lame to walk again. He makes the blind to see.

 Pammy, you are not most people. Boom Fiyah!