"Lucky"

:: Breezy Night 70ºF  |  High of 81ºF  |  skin extremely calm

I am not the only one with photodermatitis in my family. My older brother was born with it and his skin would often break out much worse. 
My brother visited me a few weeks ago and after years of not seeing each other I held his arm and checked his skin closely. He had told me that the break-outs were not as intense now and that his skin somehow had "thickened", so I had to see it up close. For my surprise, his skin didn't have any irritation despite the 80+ degree weather and it looked darker, somewhat thicker as he put it.

Perhaps the first incident that "connected" me to my brother in a more higher level happened when we were very young, coming back home from visiting our family farm.

My dad drove an antique car and it was packed with our family – my mom, dad, brothers, sisters, and grandma. The car felt really hot and dusty. It was a long drive through rural Mexico. We came upon a riot in the middle of the highway, adjacent to a railway where a number of farmers had stopped traffic – and had also stopped the train. There was a lot of chaos – many cars were waiting in line and many people were out of their cars. Some were quite angry, yelling and screaming, and some were even praying. We spent the whole night there. Waiting.
By the morning my dad’s impatience had grown. When he turned around and saw my brother scratching and growing increasingly red, as usual, he got even more upset. He got out of the car and approached the farmers at the end of the line and told them that something was ‘wrong’ with his son. He stated that an insect bit his son and he was having a severe allergic reaction and needed immediate medical attention. I remember my dad coming back to the car and demanded that my mom cover my skin, as some of the farmers were coming to check on my brother’s ‘inexplicable’ skin condition.
After the farmers stared at my brother for awhile and discussed whether or not they should let us through, we were able to leave. They asked cars to move around so we could pass through.
I can’t really describe what I felt that day. I remember feeling both sad for myself and somehow taken advantage of by my dad as well.

So many years have passed since that day. I’ve since realized that my dad did whatever his instinct told him to do to get our family out of that unfortunate situation. While it wasn’t morally right for him to lie to those people, I can understand his desperation at that time. I only wish he would have talked to my brother and I after that incident. I wish he would have told us that he accepted us for who we were and that he wasn’t taking advantage of our condition.

I sometimes felt ‘lucky’ – relieved that I had not been born with the condition, only having it develop as I grew up and thankful that my break-outs were not as severe as my brother’s. I now know that I wasn't 'lucky'... I've been always fortunate to have this special bond with my brother.