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I look like such a freak right now.
It seems that geocaching — while fantastically fun — has a drawback. And that drawback comes in the form of shiny leaves in the woods leading to itchy skin. That’s right folks, I’ve got a case of poison ivy that’s spreading quicker than that disease carrying monkey in the movie Outbreak. It’s on my hands, my face, my feet, my legs and my…well, let’s just say it’s EVERYWHERE.
Now keep in mind, I am a lowly journalist. I am not a doctor and I do not have any medical training. I’ve never even spent the night in the hospital and I’ve never had a serious disease (knock on wood). So I confess, I had no idea about the ins and outs of poison ivy. I thought if you have it, it’s contagious. After all, no one wants to go near you when you say you have poison ivy. I thought it was because it’s contagious and no one wants to come down with it.
That’s why I was being very careful not to transfer my poison ivy to Will. But not playing with the little guy is just not an option, so I did what any reasonable dad would do: I put on oven mitts whenever I had to touch him.
My wife, who is much smarter than I am, has since clarified that poison ivy can only be spread when it bubbles and then pops, smearing the oil everywhere. But it cannot be passed around just by touching someone with poison ivy. That was news to me. However, it can absolutely be spread to other parts of one’s body when he does have poison ivy. All parts. Private parts. Naughty parts.
Basically my crotch is on fire and I’m constantly poking and prodding myself. I know, I know…I do that anyways. But this time it’s because I CAN’T STOP ITCHING!! It’s horrible. And as an added bonus, I have calamine lotion all over my face, hands and body. So whenever I go out people look at the dried, pink patch on my face like I’m branded with some kind of scarlet letter.
But I least I was able to ditch the oven mitts.