I did not think shingles at 45 was something I needed to worry about. Honestly, I thought shingles was one of those things people talked about in commercials during the evening news while holding a cup of tea and discussing retirement plans.
Apparently, my body had other ideas.
I know this has happened before. I get stressed. I keep pushing. I convince myself I can just muscle through whatever is happening. I ignore the warning lights blinking all over the dashboard, and then eventually my body goes, “Cute story. Anyway, you are sitting down now.”
This time, it did that with shingles.
The Symptoms Were So Much Worse Than I Expected
What really threw me is that it did not start where I expected.
It started in my left ear. I genuinely thought I had an ear infection at first. Then the pain moved into the left side of my throat. After that, it crept up the back of my head.
When I saw my primary care doctor, I traced the line of pain with my finger. She pulled up dermatome maps on her computer and showed me how the pain was following dermatomes V2 and V3. So apparently, I got a surprise anatomy lesson with my shingles diagnosis. A deeply unpleasant bonus feature from hell.
I had no idea shingles could present like this.
And what I really did not know is that the pain and flu-like symptoms can show up before any blistering happens. You can have chills, fever, headaches, exhaustion, body aches, burning nerve pain, and generally feel like absolute garbage before there is anything visible on your skin at all.
In some cases, the blistering barely happens or does not happen much at all.
Which honestly makes the whole experience feel even more disorienting, because you are sitting there in immense pain with almost nothing external to point at. You start wondering if you are overreacting. You feel a little bit crazy because your body is screaming and there is no dramatic visual evidence to match the level of pain.
Meanwhile, your nervous system is over here acting like it has been personally betrayed.
And then I learned another rude little fact. In the U.S., the shingles vaccine is generally recommended for adults 50 and older, unless someone is immunocompromised and qualifies earlier. I am 45, so apparently I am old enough for the pain but not old enough for the prevention. Love that for me.
Since being diagnosed, I have heard from dozens of people who had shingles before turning 50. Some have had it more than once. So yes, when I do qualify, this is definitely one of those vaccines I will be getting, unless I suddenly become someone who is into feeling this kind of pain. Which, to be clear, I am not.
The pain is making me a little bit crazy, if I am being honest. It burns constantly. Touching my head or neck feels like scraping fingernails across a sunburn. Swallowing hurts. My ear canal feels like someone shoved a narrow hot curling iron directly into it and left it there for fun.
Zero stars. Absolutely do not recommend.
What has surprised me most is how invisible this kind of pain can look from the outside. You can still answer texts. You can still attempt to do normal things. Meanwhile, your nervous system is staging a full rebellion.
And because I tend to minimize what I am experiencing, I initially thought maybe I was just run down or fighting allergies.
That assumption was not exactly helped by urgent care.
Urgent Care Told Me It Was Allergies
I went to urgent care because something clearly felt wrong. The pain was escalating, and my body was waving red flags like it was directing planes on an airport runway.
I was told to take Flonase for allergies.
Several days later, I saw my primary care doctor, who took one look and immediately knew it was shingles.
That moment was validating and infuriating all at once.
I understand healthcare workers are overwhelmed. I know diagnostic mistakes happen. I am not interested in dragging exhausted medical professionals for sport. Two things can be true. Systems can be strained, and patients can still fall through the cracks.
But there is something especially unsettling about knowing your body is sounding an alarm while feeling dismissed anyway.
Particularly for women. Particularly for people who are used to downplaying pain so they do not get labeled as dramatic. Or simply because they don’t have a choice. They have to keep pushing. Any other single moms out there? Am I right?
Apparently My Fitbit and Google Health Have Joined the Intervention
You all know I normally work out four to five times a week, usually kickboxing. Movement is one of the ways I manage stress and stay grounded in myself.
So naturally, I tried to bargain with reality by attempting a 20-minute workout yesterday.
My body was deeply unimpressed.
Honestly, my Fitbit was also offended.
This morning, the Google Health app basically sat me down like a disappointed auntie and informed me that I need to rest and focus on recovery because several of my health metrics are off right now. My resting heart rate is higher. My heart rate variability is lower. Everything is apparently flashing warning signs except me, because I was still over here trying to negotiate with shingles like I was haggling at a flea market.
I am highly amused that artificial intelligence is now participating in telling me to sit down.
And honestly, I think there is something valuable there.
AI in Healthcare Cannot Replace Humans, but It Can Notice Patterns
I do not want AI replacing doctors. I want doctors to have support, better systems, and enough time to actually listen to patients.
But I also think there is real potential in technology that notices patterns we might ignore.
My watch noticed my recovery markers were off before I was emotionally ready to admit how bad I felt. It tracked changes in heart rate variability, stress, sleep quality, and recovery strain without ego getting involved. There is no little internal voice in the app going, “Well technically you can probably still power through.”
Human beings do that. Especially people who are used to surviving hard things.
Technology does not always know why something is wrong, but sometimes it can help flag that something is wrong before we fully crash into a wall.
I Am Trying to Learn the Lesson Before My Body Gets Louder
Here is the thing.
I know how to endure. A lot of us do. Especially people who have spent years carrying responsibilities, caregiving, stress, grief, financial pressure, discrimination, trauma, or all of the above stacked together like emotional Jenga.
What I am less skilled at is stopping before my body forces the issue.
There is a difference between resilience and self-abandonment. I am still learning where that line is.
Right now, my job is not to “push through.” My job is to recover. To rest without treating rest like a moral failure. To stop arguing with the evidence sitting directly in front of me.
And maybe to let the tiny judgmental robot in my watch win this round.
If you are someone who keeps going long after your body starts asking for help, I hope you listen sooner than I did. Not because resting makes you weak. Because ignoring yourself is not strength.
