Tag Archives: poison ivy

It’s in the Blood

27 Aug

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.

 

 

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One of Those Days

26 Aug

About a week ago, the blade belt on the tractor broke just as The Squire finished the front lawn. He called and ordered a replacement, which arrived this morning.  He and I both worked on getting the belt on the machine, which involved a lot of heavy lifting, pushing, pulling, and cursing.  Remove the deck, fuss and fiddle with the various pulleys, get bolts through holes, insert pins, etc. Very hard on knuckles and knees.

So – after several hours of this business, we finally got the tractor in working order.  The Squire hopped on and headed out to mow the back yard. He got about twenty feet, and the drive belt broke! We will draw a curtain over the scene that followed.

Many years ago, The Squire had my godson, Steven, help him with this job, and that young man suggested simply turning the mower on its side. Ah, if only that worked!

After dinner, I discovered I’d managed to get poison ivy on my feet. No idea how that happened. I can catch the darned stuff if the wind is in the right quarter, so I am pretty careful.  A year or so back, I got rash on the back of my calf, which I finally figured out came from the cuff of my boots; apparently I had walked through a patch of poison ivy and the oil was still “active” several months later.

ADDENDUM

The above was written last night.  I now have poison ivy all over my legs! I sleep on my back, with one leg or the other hooked under the opposite knee – think flamingos – and I seem to have spread the rash from my left foot to my right leg. Scratching it in my sleep didn’t help a bit!  Lovely. Just lovely.  I made up some aspirin and hand lotion and dabbed it on the spots, which killed the pain.  I wanted to get a pedicure on Monday, but that’s out of the question, now.

 

 

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The Wages of Sin

15 Jan

poison ivyI’ve finished one tub of pictures and have started on the second bin. (It looks as if there may be four of the blessed things.) I found this little gem in one of the shoe boxes.

I think I was about eight here, and my sister would have been three. (Possibly nine and four, but it doesn’t really matter.)  Daddy and a close friend, a fellow we called Uncle Larry, had gone to my grandmother’s house to dig up maple saplings to plant at Uncle Larry’s new house. I was given strict orders to stay on the back porch and play with the dog.

Being the sweet, obedient child I was, I followed them into the field, and found some pretty, shiny leaves, with little white berries, which I collected into a small bouquet.

Poison ivy.

The doctor gave my parents medicine to put in the bathtub, and soaked me twice a day in water as hot as I could tolerate. I had it, literally, from head to foot – on my scalp and between my toes. My nose was swollen and covered with a yellow crust. My mom had to change the bed sheets twice a day, and after the actual poison ivy cleared up, I got boils all over my legs.

And it didn’t help that my sister was so d— smug about it, either.

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