The Chinese patient goes back to the drawing board

My mother's shingles (which sounds like an interesting title for a novel, don't you think?) has caused us all much anguish and stress over the last few weeks.

First there was the pain, which must have been excruciating (though of course I can only guess) - bad enough that at one point I think my mum believed she was going to die from it.

There were multiple visits to doctors - to her GP and to after-hours doctors. They variously prescribed her four different medications to treat the pain:

One acted as a muscle super-relaxant and nerve sensitiser, so that she felt as though she could hardly stand and walk - and it hurt her feet when she did.

The next two, prescribed in unison, gave her the shakes (like Parkinsons on the proverbial speed) and pushed her blood pressure to scary heights. (One of the meds is called Tramadol - a more appropriate name would be Tremor-dol.) This lot put her in hospital for a few days.

The last was a cream which apparently works by distracting the nerves with red hot chilli pepper. My mum had to wash this off quick-smart because it made her feel like her skin was on fire.

So she's back on the plain-Jane paracetamol, which probably does little more than shave a wafer-thin edge off the pain.

Boy, is she grumpy.