Seemingly out of nowhere, my sister is starting to lose pigment on parts of her body. At first she thought it was a scar from a mosquito bite she picked, but it got bigger. And another patch appeared. And another, and another.
From doing our own research, we are pretty sure it’s vitiligo, and we have advised her to go see her doctor to get referred to a dermatologist who specializes in this chronic autoimmune disorder. But she is refusing.
I am not a medical professional, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing she can do to stop it, or reverse it, though I believe there are ways to care for it. And I want to help her embrace the change.
How can I be supportive?
Skin on skin
I am also not a medical doctor or dermatologist, but after doing some research, I have found that you are likely correct – there is no cure for this autoimmune problem. Sometimes patches go away on their own. There are also medicines and medicated creams that can help, as well as different forms of light therapy.
But other than changing the colour of your sister’s skin, vitiligo has no other known negative symptoms.
I strongly suggest that your sister see a doctor and a dermatologist, and that she talks to a professional to help her get her mental health in a stable place. I can imagine that the process of losing pigment in random places can be scary and unnerving, and something one needs to learn to live with healthily.
You can support her by taking her to these appointments and reminding her that she is a beautiful person, inside and out, and that’s not reflected in the pigment changes in her skin.
After speaking with a mom of a child who showed signs of vitiligo from infancy, it’s important that your sister confirm that it is actually vitiligo and not a bacterial infection, such as tinea versicolour or pityriasis versicolor. She suggests that the best way for you to be supportive would be to expose your sister to all the wonderfully beautiful people who live full and happy lives and embrace the skin they’re in.
My husband left me. I’m not surprised because it’s what he does; he left his last two wives. I’m only surprised because I thought by his age, and stage, he would stay for the long haul. He has two older children, married with children, from his first wife; two children in university from his second wife; and we have two kids in elementary school.
We also discussed the fact that he had left his first two wives, what led to his unhappiness, and why he was certain it wouldn’t happen to us. So, imagine my surprise when seemingly out of nowhere he announced his departure.
I’m a tough cookie – I’ve had to be to deal with both of his ex-wives and his other children. None have been all that warm and welcoming to me, though in their defence, they’ve included my children completely and lovingly. I’m fine, but…. I’m worried about my kids.
What kind of a legacy is this?
Third time dumped
Your ex has a problem with long-term commitment. You were well aware, and forewarned, but you went for it anyway. Your children are young and therefore resilient. Plus, it sounds as though they have a huge support system, with older half-siblings who all went through what they’re about to go through. They’ll be fine, just pay attention. They may need some professional help along the way.
FEEDBACK Regarding the young person working at the daycare (April 17):
Reader – “Your advice to ‘Newbie’ reinforces society’s infantilization of otherwise capable young adults.
“Your writer is 22, not 12. Why would you advise a grown woman to alert her supervisor so that an ‘adult‘ can speak with her? Why not advise the writer to (wo)man up and deal with the difficult customer, herself - because she herself is an adult? Telling her to defer to an adult implies that she lacks agency or authority.
“At 22 I had a degree, begun a career in the public service and owned my own home. And I certainly would have had zero problem resetting a customer’s expectations.”
Lisi – The first thing this woman wrote in her letter after her age was that she was a volunteer at the daycare. It was not her place to speak to this woman, though perhaps I should have just left it at ‘manager/supervisor.’