Itchy, Itchy, Scratchy, Scratch

A few days ago, I was out working in the yard when I tripped on a thin vine. This is nothing new, I trip over my own feet quite often and in our yard there are vines and roots everywhere. The vine was thin but strong and cut a scratch along my ankle. I thought nothing of it, cleaned it with alcohol when I went inside and continued on with my plan to tame the forest.

On Wednesday night, I noticed that there was a thin line shaped rash wrapping it's way around my ankle where the vine had gotten me. My first though was that it must be chiggers, but after googling (nightmare inducing) pictures of chiggers rashes, I deduced that this is not my problem.

I talk to JoDene and she suggested that it could be Poison Sumac. Knowing that I am not allergic to Poison Ivy or Poison Oak, I was doubtful, but upon further research it appears that she is right.

Having grown up in the state of Florida (the mosquito is our state bird, don't ya know?), I don't scratch bug bites because I don't want to scar, I want them to go away fast and I don't want them to hurt. The Hubs has remarked with amazement of my incredible will power to not itch and scratch my legs and arms after being bled out viciously attacked (Mountain Dew makes my blood sweet).

So here I am being a martyr for the folks that have been ruthlessly attacked by an evil plant in the middle of the day (or so I thought). And then it started spreading. Why is it spreading? I don't scratch it, I don't itch it, why is it spreading? The Hubs knows.

"You scratch all night long. You never stop. I had to get out of bed because of all of the scratching."

What?

Never mind waking up your partner or putting Benadryl on her ankle or warning her when she awoke in the morning to not A) rub her eyes or B) wipe her ass. No never mind that at all.

I am covered in puss filled blisters. When I say covered, I mean all over my legs, my arms, my face, and my, um, dark swirly parts. It's f***ing painful a tad uncomfortable.

Seeing as how I cannot be put into a mental hospital, drugged and chained to a bed for a few days drugged up on Benadryl and still function as a momma, I am thinking that I am at the very least going to schedule a bath time for myself every few hours and knit myself some giant mittens.

That way when my willpower disappears in the middle of the night, my mittens will keep me from clawing myself bloody raw.

*No, there are no pictures. I will at some point take some Benadryl and have the husband get one of my ankle or something. But right now, there will be no pictures. I do hope you understand.