Pemphigus vulgaris;

 About the blog - [tackle PV with rgk] Tackle (PEMPHIGUS VULGARIS) PV with rgk (R.G . KAVINAYAA (aka Kavithra). My personal journey with Pemphigus vulgaris; An unsettling war : STILL UNDER TREATMENT ! “ The greatest liberation for one is to write what one goes through in life when the whole world feels crowded that it makes one to suffocate with loneliness.” And the very great liberation to a struggling one is to find that they are not alone in this journey and to get to read the other side of it. It may not be the solution, but rather a voice (hope).   The initiation for this platform is to liberate myself from the dense, and to be the voice of many unheard. This blog is dedicated to spreading awareness about a rare autoimmune disorder, Pemphigus vulgaris (PV), which my doctor, Dr. Murlidhar Rajagopalan, aptly described as "the worst nightmare of disorders." I, RG Kavithra (also known as Kavinayaa ), was diagnosed with pemphigus vulgaris (PV) on July 3, 2023, at the beginn...

  The art of forgetting  And sometimes I lose track of time , deliberately . Deliberately, when the dock of emotions felt unfamiliar. Tapestry to the melancholy self , I lose track of time , 'cause the echoes felt trivial , trivial, the shades of tears , or the shadows of dauntless . Yet, the silence of the sea prevailed. Now, I lose track of time. Deliberately , pause , deliberately, to admire the timelapse . Timelapse, that hit the turmoil . For once, the fall from the deck released me , released me to fly, fly away from the wintering grounds . Regret towards the past, surpassed , and breathing felt real.  - RGK  KAVINAYAA (aka) KAVITHRA Briefing the poem: Lately I’ve been thinking and it caught my attention that there is a difference between want to and happened to, and a poem has always stood or took a great deal of role in displaying the emotions metaphorically, and the very unsettled great minds have provoked the thoughts of one through such notions. And to the...

  The last question . Entry date: 1st October 2024 It’s been a while since the last post, they spoke about my experience during the hospitalisation which I quoted as my toughest times or that’s what I thought was! Little did I know what was on its way, was way more than the times before ,“ THE REALITY! ” I was discharged during the last week of September 2023, i was more than happy to be back home. The thoughts were loud and obvious, “this is it, I did it, no more hospital or need of hospitalisation”. I believed, as I went through it, now I know everything about it. [ spoiler alert!  My knowledge about it was just pea sized ] My search to know about this disorder only increased everyday against my parents wish, they wanted me out of it, but my part of healing were the answers to these!. I went through books, wanted to know people, wanted to know their stories but to my disappointment I found one to none. I felt the longing thus it made me to build this platform, for the silen...

                                     NOTHING IS BEYOND OUR MIND Room no: 2323 I was shifted to room no.2323 with the bed, as I passed the nursing station, I saw them overwhelmed and their eyes glowed in curiosity. Entered the room and I helped myself out of the bed and headed to lavatory, when I stepped out a new nurse was already appointed for me.  As I was trying to reach the bed, she saw my bare back which was eroded completely, she reached out to me and asked for my permission to click a picture of my skin. I positioned myself under a bright light for a clear view.  [ I never felt the curiosity in them as a fault, placing me in their position I would’ve been more than excited to know about the new case. I appreciated her approach and interest in knowing about it.] The same night I slept like a baby. It’s been months since I had such a good sleep. Morning around 6 am they woke ...

 Poem - WHERE IS HOME? I am more than my disorder       Home: I stepped into the fields of wheat under a blue sky , Ukraine    The bewitching snow covering the territory,      When dark engulfed the sun early. Looking up to the shiny skies, only to know; it was     not the night that brought darkness rather the blackouts for protection, Windowless, doorless underground turned homes of many. Didn’t wake up to birds chippers,         Rather to the siren going on and off . As I watched through the glass window of the train,    Mothers hand holding the screaming kids close to her weeping heart ,  Thick clothes to the cold skin, didn’t cover the fear in her shaking lips. Desperation in the voices of those innocent hearts “ I want to go home ” I saw them alined in their own homes, where I was a mere foreigner on that capital land . I stepped into the land of Katrlis Deda (Georgia)....