Caution: yucky picture below.
I went to Honduras during my Last Summer Vacation EVER, between my first and second year of med school. We worked for a month in an emergency room in a small coastal town called Trujillo. It was a fantastic experience.
As I was heading home on the plane, I got a sore throat. Probably picked it up in the ER right before I left.
A day or so later, I developed a rash across the bottom half of my face. It looked like I had grown a beard made of strawberry ice cream.
It itched like crazy.
Of course, it turned out to be impetigo, a manifestation of either a staphylococcus or a streptococcus infection. (In this form, I read at that time, they are clinically indistinguishable.)
After I was diagnosed, was my first reaction:
A. Crap! If I didn’t get the chance to treat this in time, it could have progressed into necrotizing fasciitis and disfigured me for life if it didn’t kill me!
B. Wait till my med school buddies see this! They’ll love it! I gotta do a call-around!
I’ll give you a hint. I made sure I had some exam gloves, in case people wanted to poke at it.
You are welcome to draw any conclusions you like about my mental health.