A Gel Nail Allergy Helped Me Recognize A Pattern Of Medical Misogyny

I noticed there was something wrong with my hands on the first day of my honeymoon. Deep in the Okavango Delta, the scorching Botswanan sun slowly rising over the floodplains on our first game drive, all I could think about was the skin around my fingernails. Overnight, it had become bright red, flaky, and overwhelmingly itchy. I slathered my fingertips in the mini tube of hand cream I’d thrown in my carry-on, which did little to alleviate the problem.  By day five, my skin was so dry and irritated that deep cracks had started to form under my fingernails. The itching was relentless. The only mild respite came from doubling up on antihistamines (reader, don’t try this at home) and using my hands as infrequently as possible. Surprisingly difficult, even while sitting for long periods in a safari jeep.  I couldn’t work it out. I’d had my gel extensions infilled the day before my flight, as I’d been doing religiously at the same salon f