Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Scratch my itch

So, I guess I should officially apologize to Joey for accusing him of giving me poison ivy. And write this day down on the calendar, because here and now, I officially announce:

I. Was. Wrong.

There, I said it. Damn, that was tough. And don't look for this to happen again anytime soon.

This rash, which started as a small patch on my right arm, has quickly migrated up my arm to my shoulder, and then to my left arm. I also have a dime-sized patch right between the ol’ hooters. Is that hot or what? Please try to contain yourselves because this is a family show.

In the middle of the night for the past two nights, I’ve woken up around 3 AM and proceeded to scratch myself into a total frenzy until I finally collapsed from exhaustion. After sitting through lunch today and almost drawing blood from all the scratching, my friend Robin finally told me that if I didn’t call my dermatologist and find out what the hell this stuff is, that she wasn’t going to go to lunch with me tomorrow. Or ever.

Of course, my lovely dermatologist is one of those that it takes literally months to get an appointment for. Apparently they don’t have many openings for dermatological emergencies…although I suspect that if I’d called and said that I needed emergency Botox that they would’ve sent a limousine to pick me up immediately. After arguing with the appointment secretary for ten minutes, I finally gave up and wandered into Eeyore’s office to vent about the medical system and about my rash. His eyes widened slightly, and I could hardly believe it when he started unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and displaying his arms…

He has the same f*cking rash. The same.

Eeyore has had the rash for over three weeks now – it started on one leg, then moved to the other leg, up to his stomach and chest, and then onto both arms. He tried his usual home remedy of pouring bleach on it (yes, this is totally insane but he claims it works) and no luck in getting it to clear up. And of course he hasn’t been to a doctor.

This revelation scared the crap out of me. How in the hell could I end up with the same rash as Eeyore unless it was something totally contagious and weird? So I immediately packed up my laptop and high-tailed it to the local urgent care place (otherwise known at our house as The Doc in the Box).

Two hours, 15 magazines from 1987 and before, and $20 later, I finally got a diagnosis. It’s some form of allergic dermatitis and I ended up with a shot of steroids in the ass and a prescription for some additional steroids in case I don’t see improvement within the next 48 hours. The doctor surmised that perhaps it’s some sort of environmental thing in our office that we’re allergic to – and since we’ve changed cleaning crews at least 10 times in the past month, it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities that it could be the restroom soap or some kind of cleaning agent that they’re using that we’re reacting to.

All I know is that my f*cking arm is about to fall off. I think this calls for two Benedryl and a shot of Hot Damn and then I can call it a night. Hopefully tomorrow will be a less-itchy day. And a less-bitchy day too.

2 comments:

Gretchen said...

You mean you and Eyore weren't rubbing arms?

Hope you feel better soon!

joansy said...

Damn Liz. That sounds so incredibly close to what Billy has been battling for about 2 years. His definitely flares with stress, sun exposure and water exposure. He's had good luck with a prescription for 2% hydrocortisone and he loves Aquafor. He also has a prescription for something like Diprolene that works fairly well. If yours doesn't clear up soon I would get to a good dermatologist soon. I think we've figured out that Billy's originated when he got new teeth fillings that had nickel in them - he's allergic to nickel, which we knew, but didn't know that it was in some fillings.

Good luck. I hope it clears up soon.