Summer-Summer-Summertime...

I'm out and home (finally) for the summer. We just got back from the 1st ever Lindsey Family Extravaganza (or 1st family vacation as adults). There will definitely be more on that soon. It was fun, and eventually, kind of relaxing.

Right now, I'm battling my 3RD case of poison oak this season. If you've never had it -- and even if you aren't highly allergic -- I'm not sure you can appreciate the position I'm in.

I itch. A lot.

The first case started in April, and it was nasty. Huge welps (meaning all the lovely little blisters had run together), lots of seepage, lots of itching. I started by trying to cure it myself with Toad's favorite home remedy: Clorox.

If you've ever watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," Clorox is to Toad like Windex is to Tula's dad. It's a cure all for everything.

It also, apparently, burns your skin off.

And the poison oak didn't go away.

My cousin Julie had the end of a steroid pack that she didn't finish, so I took the rest of it, and the grossness started to fade. Now, I know you're not supposed to take someone else's prescription, but by this time, I wouldn't have cared if I'd been arrested. At least in the big house, they could probably help me get rid of the crud.

A week later, it returned with a vengeance.... and the old stuff wasn't even completely gone.

I tried Ban roll-on, a remedy given by a fellow allergic friend.

I didn't sweat from any covered pores... but I didn't get rid of my poison oak, either.

I tried these little poison ivy pills that are some sort of homeopathic remedy... (I could be using the wrong word there, but that's what I think they were)... and because I can't remember to take my birth control on a regular basis, I'm not usually good at taking any other kind of medicine that requires multiple doses in a day.

So I went to the doctor. My doctor of a zillion years recently left his regular practice to work strictly with elderly patients, so I went to see the new guy... who made me come into the office and wait for 2 hours so he could tell me I have poison oak.

Thanks, Einstein. It's on my chart. I deal with some sort of poison ivy/oak/whatever every year. You could've just called in a prescription.

Anyway, after much discussion of how I got it (the juice from the blisters, interestingly enough is not contagious -- it has to be resin from the plant -- and considering I had it all over my legs and upper hip, he seems to think I've been rolling around in the woods until I tell him that we have dogs in the house... "Ahh," he says. "If the dogs get on the furniture, they could be spreading the resin that way." Thanks. Glad you don't think I'm a freak. I'm just laying in poison oak resin on my own couch.), he puts me on a steroid pack. The grossness again starts to fade...and again, it comes back with a vengeance.

You've got to be kidding me.

This time, he gives me a shot and a stronger steroid pack. Now, I got rid of it completely, and the scarring has even faded away... but I've gained 15 pounds and have been a completely hateful biotch.

I can't win either way.

I finished the medicine at the beach last week and enjoyed a completely poison-oak free vacation. We toodled back into town this weekend.

Sunday night, I discovered a new patch of blisters on my leg.

Boudreaux -- who lays in my spot on the couch while I'm not there and whose smooth coat is prime for transporting the vileness-- is going outside. I'm getting ready to clean the couch; K. is going to hunt down vines/plants/whatever in the yard.

And I'm probably going back on steroids, gain another 80 lbs., and live out the rest of my summer in hateful spirit.

Anyone want to come for a visit? :)