First, they rise, unbidden, unkind,
Small red welts that trouble the mind.
Next, they itch, as though to declare,
A signal of discord, a skin’s despair.
Then comes the question: what did I eat?
A strawberry sweet? Or shrimp I did meet?
However, it’s tricky to find the source,
For sometimes infections can run their course.
Meanwhile, stress plays a sneaky role,
Adding more fuel to the itching toll.
Moreover, triggers like heat or cold,
Reveal the body’s secrets untold.
Thus chronic urticaria takes its stage,
Lingering symptoms that test one’s rage.
Despite the search, no cause appears,
Yet the wheals persist, amplifying fears.
Consequently, relief may seem far away,
But antihistamines help save the day.
Additionally, one must avoid the cues,
From sunlight’s glare to tight-fitting shoes.
Still, in some cases, treatments expand,
With steroids or biologics lending a hand.
Yet, above all, beware the swelling threat,
For when breathing halts, swift aid must be met.
Finally, the cycle may start anew,
But patience and care can help one through.
Although urticaria tests our will,
Life, like the wheals, can be managed still.
