My recent encounter with Poison Oak has left me paranoid, and I think it is beginning to affect other areas of my life. A few days ago, I wrapped my hands in garbage bags and proceeded to wash every item of clothing I have that had even come close to contact with poison oak, or clothes that had been in possible contact with other clothes that might have touched the poison oak clothes. It’s complicated, I know. This turned to be half my wardrobe. I then hosed down my backpack, shoes, and tent and crossed my fingers.
On a recent hike, every time we came close to water, I rinsed off my my arms, legs and face on the off chance that I had touched poison oak inadvertently. When I got home, I immediately stripped down, ran naked through my apartment so that my clothes wouldn’t touch anything, and threw them in the washing machine. I then took a cold shower and scrubbed my body with Technu, henceforth referred to as “The magical scrubby stuff of no poison oak-y awesomeness.”
I’ve even started giving dirty looks to plant life. I’m talking to you Oak tree. Don’t think I don’t know who your relatives are.
In short, I’ve been traumatized. Fortunately, there are many people who can related to my suffering, and we get to share war stories. And there is always someone who has had than worse than me, which I guiltily find comforting.
A friend of mine told me that there is a man in England who infected himself with tape worms to reduce his allergies. And, while the procedure was apparently effective, I don’t find the prospect of internal creepy crawlies more appealing than my allergic reaction to Poison oak. Yet.
There are, of course, some people who don’t have any outdoor allergies, but I don’t like them very much. You know who you are. Here’s a quick tip: when one of your friends has had a major Poison Oak induced outbreak, that’s not really the time to bring up your lack of allergies. Your friend will probably mutter something under their breath, and then set your car on fire. Seriously. Just keep it to yourself.
So, if after a hike you find me curled in the fetal position, taking a cold shower, and scrubbing myself with Technu, rest assured that I am getting therapy, stocking up on benadryl, and will be just fine. Eventually.
