This morning, my feet were so swollen I couldn’t get into any of my shoes, and you could trace the rash’s progress up my legs – a blister about every two or three inches up to my groin, in more or less a straight line.
The Squire went off to church, and I tried to find something to wear. When he got home, he helped me wrap my feet in gauze, to both protect them and squish them down so I could put something on my feet, other than fuzzy bedroom slippers. (Yes, I know there are people who go out in public that way, but I’m not one of them. Anyway, my slippers are in the attic with my winter clothes. ) Properly shod, we trotted off to Patient First. I took that lovely picture of Lynn and me to show the doctor how badly I can blow up, and explained that when I was eight the doctor had told my mum that the poison was in my blood and they needed to keep a watch on any future cases. I got a rash on my scalp and on my eyelids. It is a mighty wonder I’m not blind. And when that was over, I got boils.
Anyway, I explained to the doctor that while I realized PI was a “minor” complaint, I didn’t like the way this case was playing out. She traced my spots up my leg and allowed as how she’d never seen such a thing, and gave me prednisone.
We stopped for lunch at a pizza place called Pie Five. You can select your crust – thin, Italian, yeast raised, or gluten free. Four or five sauces, and as many toppings as you wish. I was able to pile on double mushrooms, Kalamata olives, fresh tomatoes, and a few slices of mild-hot peppers. The Squire indulged his taste for “dead animals” and got pepperoni, sausage and bacon! A salad and breadsticks to share topping it all off. A bit more expensive than we expected, but we can eat again on the leftovers.
Bringing home a frozen pizza and cooking it in you oven may be handy, but honestly, you can’t beat a properly made pizza parlor pie.
Say that three times quickly.
Tags: boils, pizza, poison ivy, The Squire
thisendoftheswamp 