BiBunny
Moon Queen & Wanderer
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2005
- Posts
- 12,558
Ok, I'll actually add something useful this time.
When I was 6 years old, I was diagnosed with linear scleroderma, an uncommon autoimmune disease with no known cause or cure. The lesion began on the outside part of my upper right thigh. It spread up to my hip and about halfway down my thigh.
The skin lesion is mostly burned out now and has lightened considerably since the days when it was active. It's several shades darker than the rest of my skin, but you have to see the whole thing to realize how bad it is. Most of the time, if people see the bottom of it peeking out from under the leg of my shorts or whatever, they just think it's a bruise. If the skin discoloration were the only problem, I'd be fine with it.
However, the disease, in addition to hardening and discoloring the skin, also destroys muscle, fat, and connective tissue. My outer thigh is deformed with what amounts to a huge dent. Skin just overlies bone and blood vessels; there's literally nothing else there. The dent itself extends past the boundaries of the lesion on both ends. It goes up over my hip and wraps around behind my back, stopping near the sacroiliac joint. The underside continues around the back of my thigh as well.
Because it developed when I was so young, the tissue destruction hampered the growth of my right leg. It's not noticeably shorter than the other one, but it's enough that it interferes with my walking. I've mostly learned to compensate, so that no one notices, but when I get tired, the awkward gait comes back.
The hip joint also hurts like a sonofabitch at times, especially lately. I fear it's out of remission and is eating into the joint itself, but I try not to think about it too much.
I've never once had a man or a woman who came to bed with me say anything bad about it. I have to point it out because if there's any impact play going on, I need you to stay the hell away from it, so it's not that they haven't noticed.
Sometimes, they ask what happened. More than one person has thought it was a burn. I hate having to explain what it is because it's not a well-known condition, so there's not really a 25-words-or-less answer for their questions. Nobody's ever made me feel uncomfortable by asking questions, though.
Men, especially, seem to like to stroke it very gently. The deepest part of the depression naturally cradles a man's hand, so when he holds me, his hand usually ends up there. It's actually a nice feeling, if it's someone I like.
The heat generated by another person's skin seems to ease the pain, which, nowadays, is almost constant.
When I was 6 years old, I was diagnosed with linear scleroderma, an uncommon autoimmune disease with no known cause or cure. The lesion began on the outside part of my upper right thigh. It spread up to my hip and about halfway down my thigh.
The skin lesion is mostly burned out now and has lightened considerably since the days when it was active. It's several shades darker than the rest of my skin, but you have to see the whole thing to realize how bad it is. Most of the time, if people see the bottom of it peeking out from under the leg of my shorts or whatever, they just think it's a bruise. If the skin discoloration were the only problem, I'd be fine with it.
However, the disease, in addition to hardening and discoloring the skin, also destroys muscle, fat, and connective tissue. My outer thigh is deformed with what amounts to a huge dent. Skin just overlies bone and blood vessels; there's literally nothing else there. The dent itself extends past the boundaries of the lesion on both ends. It goes up over my hip and wraps around behind my back, stopping near the sacroiliac joint. The underside continues around the back of my thigh as well.
Because it developed when I was so young, the tissue destruction hampered the growth of my right leg. It's not noticeably shorter than the other one, but it's enough that it interferes with my walking. I've mostly learned to compensate, so that no one notices, but when I get tired, the awkward gait comes back.
The hip joint also hurts like a sonofabitch at times, especially lately. I fear it's out of remission and is eating into the joint itself, but I try not to think about it too much.
I've never once had a man or a woman who came to bed with me say anything bad about it. I have to point it out because if there's any impact play going on, I need you to stay the hell away from it, so it's not that they haven't noticed.
Sometimes, they ask what happened. More than one person has thought it was a burn. I hate having to explain what it is because it's not a well-known condition, so there's not really a 25-words-or-less answer for their questions. Nobody's ever made me feel uncomfortable by asking questions, though.
Men, especially, seem to like to stroke it very gently. The deepest part of the depression naturally cradles a man's hand, so when he holds me, his hand usually ends up there. It's actually a nice feeling, if it's someone I like.



Thank you, Yanks.