I even quited measuring the serum IgE level.
Meeting the boundlessly uprising IgE count had been stressing me out. I had felt as if I had been caught into an ant lion' trap. I believed the bright morning sure would come no matter how long the night was. But there was no guarantee. I couldn' t help feeling anxious about my future.
As a delmatologist, I thought I should follow the progress and I was interested in it, too. But I was too frightend as well as tired of it.

The things I spent time instead of examinations or treatments were.....

One was checking internet.
I bought a personal computer and connected it to internet which was going to initiate to prevail generally. I intended to learn how to use them during the extra time.
Naturally, I came to search sites related to AD. Since it was at the dawn of the internet, I could read through nearly all the retrieved sites in Japanese.
I found plenty of informations that differs from ones in dermatologic or medical textbook. Of course good and bad ones were mixed up together there, but they gave interesting fresh inspirations to me.
Besides, there were candid voices of afflicted AD patients themselves. Ordinary people could express themselves honestly without pressured by authoritative delmatologists there. And they could talk together there, too. Even if I wasn't able to go out at all, no obstacle existed.
In addition to gaining new informations (mostly about alternative therapies), my lonely distressed heart got lots of console by meeting good friends on internet. That was a great blessing for me.

Another was reading books to collect informations.
First, I read books doctors (dermatologists and others) wrote for patients to lead. I felt most of them just emphasizing their therapeutic lines and the fairness of them, lacking broad outlook. I didn' t get many things from them.
Then I read books about diseases and treatments.
I knew modern medicine (I had believed the best and the only one) was just one of many medical treatments around the world. Lots of other effective traditional therapies were active and used still. Some doctors of modern medicines were trying to revalue them as alternative medicines, and make use of them as complementary medicines to modern ones.
Modern medicine was useful to acute diseases by strong symptomatic therapies, but tended to be uneffective or even might to be harmful in chronic diseases.
AD would be one of the diseases to which alternative therapies might play an important role.
I also read books about interrelation between mind and body. I knew of psychoneuroimmunology for the first time. Neural, endocrine, and immune systems were mutually interrelating and influencing each other in a body of one man. And body, mind, and spirit were also interacting. Injured mind could cause physical disease (psychosomatic disease). A mind power might heal physical illness.
Modern medicine, whose philosophy had started from Descartes's dualism, thought body as a machine and organs as parts of them working independently.
I tried autogenic training and imagery to myself. They were effective to fix my mind balance which had been rather unstable because of difficulties and anxiety. That reduced fitfull violent itch especially at night. I tried meditation as well, but it was not successful due to unbroken itch.

My AD condition finally seemed to finish its bottom and started to rise again. Though the recovery was the long long way over years and continuing still.....

I could measure the level of skin recovery by its texture. Profoundly deep wrinkles and wide intervals between them very slowly started to reduce.
Another measure was the extent of my acting. Little by little AD improvement decreased pain and itch of the skin and unabled me to act more.
I felt the upper part of my body with relative ease.

The best time to act was in the evening, because I had severe itch at night and injured skin in the morning. I began to wash dishes after dinner. I needed rubber gloves to protect my hands for about two years since then.

One noon my friends came to see me worrying vanished me. That was realy delightful after a long hard time.
I found I had forgotten to laugh since I had fallen into the predicament, though knowing laughter drew up the power of immune system. Every snapshot of me revealed an unhappy woman. Torments had distorted my face.
My noticing it meant that I could afford to think things a little more due to the improvement. I thought I should not be spoiled by the agony. I had to enjoy and laugh. Still I was permitted to continue to live. I encouraged myself.

One evening I challenged to spread my territory to cooking. It failed miserably.
I could manage washing and cutting vesitables to prepare enduring piercing pain of my AD hands. Starting to fry them, the unusual situation occurred. As the flame of gas cookstove warmed up me, my body was in a glow and strong itchy wave attacked me. It was so strong that I was impossible to continue cooking and crouched down there groaning.
Some said "AD? It's just a skin disease (meaning to be not serious compared with organ diseases)." − No, no, it was serious.
AD robbed me of every kind of abilities. Abilities to work, to lead a social life, and even to do housework properly. I was mortified.
Sick people had to fight against self-hatred of being unabled men as well. I wouldn't know that if myself was not a patient. Unless I had families who accept such incompetent person; that was me, I would be in great difficulties.

My futon had to be aired in the sun frequently since I spent long time of a day including immediately after bathing.
As I recovered and became to be able go upstairs, I did it by myself. My mother had been doing too much work to care us. I had to reduce it one after the other.
A family which had sick people could do less, but had to do more. It was paradoxical. Asking other one's help was not a easy matter. Family members had to share works and help each other to spend every difficult day. I actually felt the importance of the family.

One of that impotant family member, my father, got very sick and entered a hospital.
Since his condition was fatal, I should go to the hospital and meet the doctor with my mother.
I made up my mind to carry out it. We went by taxi. I felt dizzy but the itch and the pain was barely tolerable. It was the first step. My mother and I (accompanying my daughter) commuted the hospital to see my father alternately then.
I thought it was a chance heaven gave to me. But still, it was a small step. The commute made me so tired that I could not go out other than it and needed to rest almost all day.

Then my father passed away. We felt lonely.
But I had a labor left; the funeral which was long and complicated. I overcame it with an enormous strength in an emergency.
Still, I needed the schedule changed to later times and had to endure tremendous pain of my skin due to hard work and less of sleep. It was so hard. I cried secretly.