I have poison ivy right now. It is all over me. My neck. My legs. My arms. My stomach. Behind my ears. It has even made its way onto areas of my body that I will not mention explicitly. But oh, you can imagine.
But that is not the worst of it. The worst is that I woke up this morning with my left eye swollen shut. No lie. It turns out that if you have poison ivy, you shouldn't rub your eyes. This much should have been obvious to me. But it wasn't. And now I must go to the doctor for a cortozon shot. This will happen in about an hour. But until then I will look like a mutant.
The itch is killing me. It is so enticing. I scratch it and it feels unbelievable. Seriously. To scratch a poison ivy itch is unbelievably orgasmic. But then when you stop scratching, the itch doubles up its intensity. And it makes you pay if you choose not to scratch it again. I have been writhing for the past 30 minutes. Writhing. My skin is crawling. My skin is burning. I must scratch it. I must. But I shalln't.
And don't forget about my ogre-like eye. I wish I had a picture to post. I look like Egor off of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I'm hideous. I haven't left my apartment all day. But I will soon. One more hour. And then the cortozon shot. All I know is, this thing better work.
I've never been so pissed at a plant before in my life.
OK, help me out people. I don't understand this freakin plant. So it has this poisonous oil on its leaves that acts as a defense mechanism. It is supposed to keep predators at bay. But it only really works about 2 days too late. The predator has already killed the plant. The poison on Poison Ivy doesn't stop you from killing it or stepping on it or carrying out whatever threats it feels endangered from. It is like having a can of mace that doesn't work until a week later. The thief already has your purse. Who cares about it 2 days later? I don't understand this plant. It has a crappy defense mechanism. And believe me, it is not stopping me from messing with them again. I will put on gloves and long sleeves next time. And I will pull them from the ground by their roots. And I will enjoy tearing them to pieces, bit by bit. I will laugh. Yes I will laugh.
But for now, I will scratch.
Two becoming onerous...
6 comments:
Oh Matty! That's horrible. How and where, pray tell, did you come across the plant? I always follow Homer's advice: "Leaves of 3, let it be. Leaves of 4, smoke some more." (or something to that effect.) Hope you're doing better.
Egor was in the Frankenstien stories. The Hunchback of Notre Dame was named Quasimodo.
Interestingly enough, that name appeared in a different form with the early 90's new wave band Quasi and the Modos, who had some moderate hits on a few local radio stations in Dallas, etc...
Scratch it, fool...
i once went #2 on a golf course only to use a friendly cousin of poison ivy (poison oak) for my 'toilet paper.' it was a poor substitue for real paper, but the real kicker was when i woke up the next day. true story, it was terribly awful, as you can probably imagine. matt, i bet you looked like a real boob with that eye. if i were there, i probably would have laughed at you alot
You carry a purse, Matt? I think we have bigger problems than resisting the urge to scratch a little poison ivy.
Another reason why growing up a rich kid in Dallas suburbia may be harmful to a person -
he doesn't learn what poison ivy looks like.
What's truly ghastly here is that you wrote shalln't. It's shan't.
You'll have no pity from me.
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