With his legs now freed of their epidermis, only time would tell if the ibuprofen gel would continue to work. But of course, over time, its anaesthetic effect wore off. Agony ensued.
If the eczema had been unbearable, this was doubly so. He applied more gel and it worked, but he knew the effect would only be temporary. How could he possibly live his life this way? He couldn’t.
He then planned his exit. He looked down at his raw thighs and calves objectively.
Feeling peckish, he decided upon his last meal.
And soon, he really was in a stew.
He’d grown his fingernails long. Unusually so for a man. But this man’s long fingernails had purpose. Paring.
First he rubbed ibuprofen gel into both his legs, from top to toe. This provided some essential local anaesthetic. Then, after giving himself a start, carefully using a sharp kitchen knife, he slid his fingernails under his skin, taking care to detach just the skin and no more. Gingerly he eased all the skin on his legs away. The ibuprofen gel was working.
Finally, he pulled off his skin like a pair of tights.
No longer would he scratch at his eczema.