I love that old song "Poison Ivy." My favorite line is about the ocean of calamine lotion. I found myself singing that song quite a bit the last couple of weeks.
The last Friday of October was monumental for me. I got a relatively clean bill of health from the cardiologist. I admit I was more than a little apprehensive when he mentioned he wanted to check my aneurysm just to make sure that all was okay there. It was, no worries from that end!
I also went to my lap-band doctor and was surprised that I had actually maintained my weight despite eating poorly the past couple of months. I got my usual fill and went on my merry way, scratching around the lidocaine injection site all they way out to the car. I didn't stop to think that my stomach was itching even more than it had been over the last few days.
That night, I texted my friend Jill and asked if she had ever heard of getting a reaction from lidocaine. She used to work in a hospital, so I thought she might know something about it. When I looked a few minutes later, I had what looked like hives around my scar next to my lap-band "port." I told myself I had better stop scratching.
When I awoke the next day I thought that I really had been scratching in my sleep because I also had a nearby patch of what looked like scratch marks. I cut my nails since I was still itching like crazy.
The next day, when the third patch appeared, I hauled out the super heavy duty cortisone cream I had left over from a severe case of dermatitis.
By the fourth day, I found some old calamine lotion and began to apply it to all four patches.
Nothing worked. So, I decided yet another trip to my doctor was in order.
Here comes the good part.
He walked in and said, "What's going on?"
I pulled up my shirt and said, "You tell me."
Without hesitating, his diagnosis came out loud and clear. "Shingles."
" $%#@ no!"
" $%#@ yes! And from the looks of it you have had it for a while."
Fastest darn ninety bucks I ever spent!
So, a week of prednisone and a nasty anti-viral that made me feel even worse became my reality.
Shingles itch and burn. I was fortunate that my outbreak was relatively mild. Curiously, as I was posting to my friends on Face Book that I now had a new illness, a good friend of mine was posting the same thing. We ended up commiserating together through many text messages. Her breakout was along the face and hair, which could be dangerous so close to your eye. Mine were on my torso, and the last one just out of reach of my scratching ability.
And, to make matters worse, I was officially banned from our small office. Several coworkers there had not had the chicken pox, and while you are only contagious when the blisters appear, they wanted no part of me or my shingles. Just as well.... the prednisone made me carnivorous and the anti-viral made me... well, just trust me, you don't wanna hear about it. It would definitely fall under the category of TMI.
I am better, and am now once again attempting to get back on track with healthy eating habits. I blamed the predinisone when I ate the whole bag of Crisp Butter Fingers before Halloween. I am not sure who or what to blame for the cookies.
Did you know that they now make a clear calamine lotion? Wonders never cease!
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