Tuesday, September 9, 2008

F Word

Oh yes, THE F WORD times 3 million and 6. I have hives and I am fixing to lose my mind. This shit started Monday night. I got in from the bookstore at 11:30 and fell into bed. By 3 I was up and scratching like crazy. I had nightmares that I had fleas all over and and was freaking out because of the itch. I pulled everything in my room apart, sprayed for fleas and went back to bed all skived out. When I woke up at 6 am I had red welts all over my thighs.

FLEAS!!

I was really freaking out. I went into work and just sat there digging at my skin. It was not getting better. As matter of fact it got worse and it was spreading. Now I knew we did not have fleas at work so that did make me feel better and these were more lumps not bites which scared me and made me even more itchy. I drove my poor Co-worker crazy today with my whine over it but, honestly, it's horrible.

So I get home, I take a shower with some goats milk soap (because it was the mildest thing I had and it was a good excuse to rub myself) and I went to bed. Guess what? It's 1 AM and I am wide awake scratching the blood out of my arms and legs. Yup, if I could just hit bone I would feel so much better. My ass is on fire from this stuff too. It was so bad that I went in and doused down with alcohol just to get some relief.

Not such a good idea. Do you know what happens when you put alcohol on skin that you have scraped raw? Really, I'm fine. I just clung to the bathroom ceiling for about 10 minutes crying and cussing, that's all. So now what to do? Do I put pants and a bra on and go to the emergency room and get a shot in my ass? Do I put pants on and go to wal mart and self doctor myself? Do I go get a glass or 8 of wine and go to bed and pray that I can get the blood out of my sheets? Do I just sit here and cry while scratching my ass with the dog brush? (WHAT? She will never know)

All I know is that I want my mama!! I want her to wash all my stuff with dreft and give me tomato soup and to cluck and fuss over me while she rubs lotion on me. I want Popsicles dammit because that was her sure fire cure for all that ailed me! I think really I just want the clucking and fussing....and a dog brush with stiffer bristles.

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