Based on the search terms inside of the stats of people finding and hopefully reading my blog, I should be writing about having lymphedema or at least about famous people with lymphedema, however, today I'm reporting that I have poison oak. And I don't particularly care if a famous person has poison oak.
I've had the rash on and off for a few weeks ever since Eric and I started de-Scotch broom-ing the neighbor's acreage across the street. And you pretty much have to de-broom your neighbors acreage to prevent your acreage from being covered in the same nasty weed. Thistles and scotch broom - a lovely combo. Not. I actually saw a woman buying a gallon plant of Scotch broom at the nursery about a week ago. I wanted to smack her upside the head though that would be like shooting the messenger -- potted Scotch broom should not be a sellable item -- I imagine this woman will find this fact out when she's got nothing but scotch broom as far as the eye can see.
Eric doesn't even have to touch poison oak and he gets it. I kid him - though it's far from funny, that he only has to see the plant to get the rash. I am not as afflicted. Usually I'll get a few dots of rash here and there. I recently tasked myself with the clean up of the remaining scotch broom debris pile and consequently reinfected myself in numerous places. Fingers, neck, back, hips (both), right armpit, chin. Spots of the itchy red rash rise up daily. I even have some behind my right ear -my left eye-lid and brow. The itch of poison oak is unique.
The problem with these irritations is that they'll never disappear. You pull one weed out, another five spring up nearby. You work on your neighbor's weed patch while your garden lies in limbo, weeds sprouting just below the loam.
Once poison oak gets on the body -- rising between fingers, armpits and eyebrows there's not a lot you can control. Just when you think you have control over one inconvenience another rises in its place. Right ear, left eyelid, buttcheeks. Life could be easier if I chose instead to laugh at my feelings of annoyance rather than care for my neighbor's weed patch. But then what would I whine about?