Looking at my teammate’s flushed cheek, I still can’t help but shudder when recalling everything we’ve been through over the past days—those few painless, itchless little rashes nearly caused him to lose his eyesight and suffer facial paralysis.

All AI Said It Was a Minor Issue—But the Clinic Doctor Diagnosed in 3 Seconds: “Delay Any Longer and You Could Go Blind or Get Facial Paralysis”

And what misled us at first was the “unified diagnosis” from several AI platforms.

“Just to be safe,” should we ask AI?

One morning, my teammate suddenly pointed to his nose and said, “Why do I have a few pimples here? Looks like the skin’s broken.” I leaned in and saw three or four grain-sized rashes on the tip and wings of his nose, with slight surface erosion. But he insisted they didn’t hurt or itch, so we didn’t pay much attention at the time.

The next day, however, a string of rashes appeared on his cheek. Even more alarming, they began spreading around his eye area. That night, his eye turned red, and he kept feeling like there was sand in it. The foreign-body sensation grew stronger by the hour, making blinking increasingly difficult.

That’s when we finally took it seriously—but still assumed it was just an allergy, given the recent high pollen counts. We planned to take some antihistamines he’d used before.

Then I thought, “Just to be safe, maybe we should check with AI?” I selected several AI platforms highly rated by netizens, uploaded photos of the rash, and described the symptoms in detail, hoping to cross-reference their answers.

Shockingly, all the AIs gave nearly identical conclusions: ocular rosacea, recommending topical metronidazole cream for inflammation.

Reassured by this “confirmation” from AI, I immediately bought metronidazole ointment and applied it to his face. But things only got worse—

the rashes on his cheek turned into clear blisters that burst at the slightest touch, leaking fluid; the entire right side of his face became red and swollen; his right eye swelled shut; and the foreign-body sensation evolved into constant stabbing pain. He even started getting headaches.

Panicked, I rushed to book appointments at a top-tier hospital’s dermatology and ophthalmology departments.

Without prompt treatment, blindness could occur

As soon as my teammate removed his mask in the dermatology clinic, the doctor took one look—before we could even begin describing the symptoms—and immediately said, “This is herpes zoster on the face, and it’s in a dangerous location. Without aggressive treatment, you risk vision loss.”

My scalp tingled with dread. So it wasn’t rosacea at all!

The doctor explained further: “Facial shingles is caused by the varicella-zoster virus. Its hallmark is clusters of blisters following nerve pathways, often with significant pain. Since the virus has invaded the ophthalmic branch of the trigeminal nerve, you’re experiencing eye redness and sharp pain. If it progresses, it could damage your vision—even cause blindness. If other nerves are affected, facial paralysis may occur. Even after healing, postherpetic neuralgia can linger.”

He strongly recommended hospitalization to control the condition; if we refused, we must start oral brivudine immediately. We chose the latter. By the third day of medication, new blisters stopped appearing, and swelling began to subside. After finishing the seventh pill, the blisters had mostly dried and crusted over. The redness, eye pain, and headache all significantly improved. Eventually, the scabs fell off, and his skin started healing.

Thankfully, it ended without permanent damage. But we learned a hard lesson: never rely on AI for medical diagnosis! AI can only serve as a reference—it cannot replace an in-person evaluation by a qualified physician. Skin issues may seem minor, but early diagnosis and treatment can prevent severe consequences.

Can You Use AI for Medical Diagnosis?

Not as a doctor—but excellent as an assistant

Initially, I treated AI like a medical expert: once it gave a response, I self-diagnosed and followed its advice to start treatment—just as if I’d consulted a real physician.

This approach risks misdiagnosis due to incomplete patient information or AI inaccuracies.

Currently, AI does not meet the standard for direct clinical diagnosis and cannot replace professional medical judgment. If you plan to take prescription drugs or adjust treatment based on AI suggestions, always confirm with a real doctor first.

However, AI can be a knowledgeable and patient assistant in the following scenarios:

Before booking an appointment: Input your medical history and ask AI which department to visit first.

Before seeing the doctor: Ask AI about possible consultation procedures and precautions (e.g., fasting for certain tests).

After diagnosis: Ask AI to explain the disease, medical terms, health management strategies, potential drug side effects, and interactions with food or other medications.

(For more on how to properly use AI like DeepSeek for health inquiries—including detailed prompting templates—see our related guide.)

My teammate hadn’t fully recovered when I came down with fever and rashes

Two weeks after my teammate’s shingles diagnosis—while he was still healing—I suddenly felt unwell one evening: chills, and a temperature of 38.5°C (101.3°F). My first thought was influenza, as several colleagues had recently tested positive. But since I had no other symptoms and the fever wasn’t extremely high, I decided to try physical cooling and monitor overnight.

The next day, I accidentally touched my forehead and found a pimple—itchy to the touch. In that instant, the doctor’s warning during my teammate’s diagnosis flashed through my mind like lightning: “Stay away from children—you could give them chickenpox!”

Had I been infected by my teammate?

This time, I didn’t consult AI. I went straight to the dermatology clinic. After hearing my history and glancing at the rash—within five seconds—the doctor confidently declared, “You’re absolutely right. This is chickenpox.”

He explained that adults rarely get chickenpox because most were either infected or vaccinated in childhood. But if you’ve never had it or been vaccinated, exposure to the varicella-zoster virus can trigger chickenpox. Adult cases are usually more severe than in children—but fortunately, I caught it early, and antiviral treatment should mitigate symptoms.

He prescribed valacyclovir and advised me to take it on schedule. For fever, I could use acetaminophen. I opened the medication right at the pharmacy and took the first dose immediately, hoping to curb the virus fast.

New batches of rashes kept erupting—I was ordered into strict isolation

The virus proved more formidable than expected. For the next three days, my temperature stayed normal in the mornings but spiked every evening—reaching 38.8°C (101.8°F)—leaving me achy and exhausted.

Even worse, each fever episode brought a fresh wave of rashes: spreading from my face to chest, back, arms, and even thighs. They started as red papules, quickly turning into dense, clear blisters. Though intensely itchy, I resisted scratching for fear of scarring—nearly driving me to despair.

Since chickenpox is highly contagious, the doctor instructed strict isolation until all blisters had fully crusted over and fallen off. He gave me a two-week sick leave. During that time, I stayed confined to my room, completely separated from family. Thankfully, my child remained uninfected—later, I checked his records and confirmed he’d received both doses of the chickenpox vaccine at ages 1 and 4.

By day four of treatment, my fever finally stabilized. The blisters gradually dried and crusted. On day ten, all had formed dark scabs and began falling off. But my face was left with several dark marks and one shallow pit.

Now, my teammate bears post-shingles hyperpigmentation, while I carry chickenpox scars—we’re truly a “matched pair.”

As this ordeal nears its end, the doctor’s final warning keeps me vigilant: recovery from chickenpox usually grants lifelong immunity. But the virus remains dormant in nerve ganglia. If immunity drops later in life—say, in your 40s or 50s—it can reactivate as shingles. That’s why getting the shingles vaccine at that age is crucial to avoid repeating my teammate’s “tragedy.”

Personal experiences shared here do not constitute medical advice and cannot replace individualized clinical judgment by a physician. Please seek care at a licensed medical facility if needed.

Looking at my teammate’s flushed cheek, I still can’t help but shudder when recalling everything we’ve been through over the past days—those few painless, itchless little rashes nearly caused him to lose his eyesight and suffer facial paralysis.

All AI Said It Was a Minor Issue—But the Clinic Doctor Diagnosed in 3 Seconds: “Delay Any Longer and You Could Go Blind or Get Facial Paralysis”

And what misled us at first was the “unified diagnosis” from several AI platforms.

“Just to be safe,” should we ask AI?

One morning, my teammate suddenly pointed to his nose and said, “Why do I have a few pimples here? Looks like the skin’s broken.” I leaned in and saw three or four grain-sized rashes on the tip and wings of his nose, with slight surface erosion. But he insisted they didn’t hurt or itch, so we didn’t pay much attention at the time.

The next day, however, a string of rashes appeared on his cheek. Even more alarming, they began spreading around his eye area. That night, his eye turned red, and he kept feeling like there was sand in it. The foreign-body sensation grew stronger by the hour, making blinking increasingly difficult.

That’s when we finally took it seriously—but still assumed it was just an allergy, given the recent high pollen counts. We planned to take some antihistamines he’d used before.

Then I thought, “Just to be safe, maybe we should check with AI?” I selected several AI platforms highly rated by netizens, uploaded photos of the rash, and described the symptoms in detail, hoping to cross-reference their answers.

Shockingly, all the AIs gave nearly identical conclusions: ocular rosacea, recommending topical metronidazole cream for inflammation.

Reassured by this “confirmation” from AI, I immediately bought metronidazole ointment and applied it to his face. But things only got worse—

the rashes on his cheek turned into clear blisters that burst at the slightest touch, leaking fluid; the entire right side of his face became red and swollen; his right eye swelled shut; and the foreign-body sensation evolved into constant stabbing pain. He even started getting headaches.

Panicked, I rushed to book appointments at a top-tier hospital’s dermatology and ophthalmology departments.

Without prompt treatment, blindness could occur

As soon as my teammate removed his mask in the dermatology clinic, the doctor took one look—before we could even begin describing the symptoms—and immediately said, “This is herpes zoster on the face, and it’s in a dangerous location. Without aggressive treatment, you risk vision loss.”

My scalp tingled with dread. So it wasn’t rosacea at all!

The doctor explained further: “Facial shingles is caused by the varicella-zoster virus. Its hallmark is clusters of blisters following nerve pathways, often with significant pain. Since the virus has invaded the ophthalmic branch of the trigeminal nerve, you’re experiencing eye redness and sharp pain. If it progresses, it could damage your vision—even cause blindness. If other nerves are affected, facial paralysis may occur. Even after healing, postherpetic neuralgia can linger.”

He strongly recommended hospitalization to control the condition; if we refused, we must start oral brivudine immediately. We chose the latter. By the third day of medication, new blisters stopped appearing, and swelling began to subside. After finishing the seventh pill, the blisters had mostly dried and crusted over. The redness, eye pain, and headache all significantly improved. Eventually, the scabs fell off, and his skin started healing.

Thankfully, it ended without permanent damage. But we learned a hard lesson: never rely on AI for medical diagnosis! AI can only serve as a reference—it cannot replace an in-person evaluation by a qualified physician. Skin issues may seem minor, but early diagnosis and treatment can prevent severe consequences.

Can You Use AI for Medical Diagnosis?

Not as a doctor—but excellent as an assistant

Initially, I treated AI like a medical expert: once it gave a response, I self-diagnosed and followed its advice to start treatment—just as if I’d consulted a real physician.

This approach risks misdiagnosis due to incomplete patient information or AI inaccuracies.

Currently, AI does not meet the standard for direct clinical diagnosis and cannot replace professional medical judgment. If you plan to take prescription drugs or adjust treatment based on AI suggestions, always confirm with a real doctor first.

However, AI can be a knowledgeable and patient assistant in the following scenarios:

Before booking an appointment: Input your medical history and ask AI which department to visit first.

Before seeing the doctor: Ask AI about possible consultation procedures and precautions (e.g., fasting for certain tests).

After diagnosis: Ask AI to explain the disease, medical terms, health management strategies, potential drug side effects, and interactions with food or other medications.

(For more on how to properly use AI like DeepSeek for health inquiries—including detailed prompting templates—see our related guide.)

My teammate hadn’t fully recovered when I came down with fever and rashes

Two weeks after my teammate’s shingles diagnosis—while he was still healing—I suddenly felt unwell one evening: chills, and a temperature of 38.5°C (101.3°F). My first thought was influenza, as several colleagues had recently tested positive. But since I had no other symptoms and the fever wasn’t extremely high, I decided to try physical cooling and monitor overnight.

The next day, I accidentally touched my forehead and found a pimple—itchy to the touch. In that instant, the doctor’s warning during my teammate’s diagnosis flashed through my mind like lightning: “Stay away from children—you could give them chickenpox!”

Had I been infected by my teammate?

This time, I didn’t consult AI. I went straight to the dermatology clinic. After hearing my history and glancing at the rash—within five seconds—the doctor confidently declared, “You’re absolutely right. This is chickenpox.”

He explained that adults rarely get chickenpox because most were either infected or vaccinated in childhood. But if you’ve never had it or been vaccinated, exposure to the varicella-zoster virus can trigger chickenpox. Adult cases are usually more severe than in children—but fortunately, I caught it early, and antiviral treatment should mitigate symptoms.

He prescribed valacyclovir and advised me to take it on schedule. For fever, I could use acetaminophen. I opened the medication right at the pharmacy and took the first dose immediately, hoping to curb the virus fast.

New batches of rashes kept erupting—I was ordered into strict isolation

The virus proved more formidable than expected. For the next three days, my temperature stayed normal in the mornings but spiked every evening—reaching 38.8°C (101.8°F)—leaving me achy and exhausted.

Even worse, each fever episode brought a fresh wave of rashes: spreading from my face to chest, back, arms, and even thighs. They started as red papules, quickly turning into dense, clear blisters. Though intensely itchy, I resisted scratching for fear of scarring—nearly driving me to despair.

Since chickenpox is highly contagious, the doctor instructed strict isolation until all blisters had fully crusted over and fallen off. He gave me a two-week sick leave. During that time, I stayed confined to my room, completely separated from family. Thankfully, my child remained uninfected—later, I checked his records and confirmed he’d received both doses of the chickenpox vaccine at ages 1 and 4.

By day four of treatment, my fever finally stabilized. The blisters gradually dried and crusted. On day ten, all had formed dark scabs and began falling off. But my face was left with several dark marks and one shallow pit.

Now, my teammate bears post-shingles hyperpigmentation, while I carry chickenpox scars—we’re truly a “matched pair.”

As this ordeal nears its end, the doctor’s final warning keeps me vigilant: recovery from chickenpox usually grants lifelong immunity. But the virus remains dormant in nerve ganglia. If immunity drops later in life—say, in your 40s or 50s—it can reactivate as shingles. That’s why getting the shingles vaccine at that age is crucial to avoid repeating my teammate’s “tragedy.”

Personal experiences shared here do not constitute medical advice and cannot replace individualized clinical judgment by a physician. Please seek care at a licensed medical facility if needed.