Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Itchy and scratchy

Leave it to about.com to answer most of my questions about poison ivy/oak/sumac, whatever it is that is causing me to reach around to my backside, stick my hands down my pants and scratch where my legs meet my bottom. I must have sat in it, but I still don't understand why one hip broke out relatively early and the other not until at least five days after, or how the sticky urshiol soaked through my cotton trousers.

The rash started with what I thought was a nasty insect bite on my ankle on Friday. I figured I'd picked it up at the zoo the day before. By Saturday night, my right-side rear end started itching and seemed to have a small rash. Delicate flower that I am, I assumed that I'd broken out in hives what with all the stress from living my perfect life and all.

It was either by Sunday or Monday evening my husband figured it out. Aha! Did you walk in the woods at your parents' place? Yes, and that was a mere two days before we went to the zoo. I was terribly relieved that no hidden stressful memory buried in my subconscious was poking itself out through my skin, and I was almost excited at the adventure. After all I was part of a new club.

Then I looked at the club pictures. In a smaller way, what happened to that man in that picture is happening to the place where I sit down.

This morning, two weeks since contact was made with the dreaded plant, I have a new rash spreading on my neck, behind my knees and blisters scattered about my body. I'm ready to quit the club.

But I did learn that it was captain John Smith who named the plant in 1609. Makes me feel a part of history. I guess that makes Tuesday, March 14, 2006, a date which will live in Bystander infamy.


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