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At first, Lina didn’t think much of it.
It started as a faint itch on the back of her hand—nothing serious, nothing alarming. Just the kind of irritation you’d expect from cold weather or maybe washing dishes too often. She rubbed it absentmindedly and went on with her day. Life was busy, and small discomforts didn’t deserve attention.
But the itch didn’t go away.
Over the next few days, it came back stronger. The skin on her fingers began to feel tight, almost as if it were stretched too thin. When she looked closely, she noticed a slight redness spreading across her knuckles. Still, she ignored it. “Probably just dry skin,” she told herself.
Lina had always been practical. She worked long hours, took care of her home, and rarely slowed down for anything. A little irritation wasn’t going to stop her.
So she kept washing dishes. Kept using the same soap. The same cleaning spray. The same scented lotion she had used for years.
That’s when things started to change.
One morning, she woke up to a burning sensation in her hands. Not painful enough to panic—but enough to make her pause. When she looked down, the redness had deepened, and small patches of her skin looked rough, almost cracked.
She felt a flicker of concern.
Still, she convinced herself it would pass.
Days turned into a week, and the symptoms didn’t just stay—they spread. The itching became constant, impossible to ignore. Her skin started peeling in thin, dry layers. Some areas became swollen, and others felt raw to the touch.
Simple things—like holding a cup of coffee or turning a doorknob—began to feel uncomfortable.
That’s when Lina finally admitted something wasn’t right.
She tried changing her hand cream first, switching to something labeled “gentle” and “hydrating.” But instead of improving, her skin reacted even more. The burning sensation intensified. Red patches spread across her palms.
Confusion started to replace denial.
“What is happening to me?” she whispered one evening, staring at her hands under the bathroom light.