Poison Ivy

I've managed to go 44 years without ever contracting poison ivy. This week I suffered my first case. As luck would have it, I got it on my butt (photo not available).

By my calculations, I contracted said poison ivy last weekend while I was at Laurie's Luxury Lake weekend at Clark Hill. I never sat on anything green, and I was clothed the entire time. So the best I can determine is that I contracted the poison ivy while in the shower at the Country Inn and Suites in Martinez, GA.

At first I thought I just had a bug bite or two. There were, after all, several dogs at the Luxury Lake weekend, and I thought perhaps a flea had found its way into my shorts and had lunch. But over the next couple of days, the itching persisted. And by Tuesday, when I went with my writing group to Lake Jackson for our annual writing retreat, I was scratching my behind with fury.

Of course, the rash is in just such a position that I can't see it well, not even in the mirror. And that's why I'm thankful for my dear friends, Pat, Lois, Donna, and Jan, with whom I have become even closer in the past four days. Someone who is willing to inspect a blistery rash on my buttocks is a friend worth keeping.

Fortunately, they were more experienced with poison ivy treatments. In fact, Donna had the miracle cure, which I will share with my loyal readers: Bleach.

That's right. Chlorine bleach.

Donna recommended that I scrub (yes, scrub) bleach onto my rash until the blisters popped and the bleach seeped into them. "It'll hurt," she said (Donna's not one to sugar coat things), "but the bleach will dry out the sores, and by morning, you'll feel much better."

So off we drove to Jackson, Georgia (home of the Fresh Air Barbecue and Georgia's electric chair) to the CVS to buy my poison ivy cure. Back at the lake house, kindly administered the treatment because I couldn't reach the affected area. The initial application of the bleach didn't feel so bad. But an hour later, it felt like Donna had spilled acid on it. Still, I was not about to forgo a midnight swim, so I put a big-ole patch on it and dove into Jackson Lake.

Donna was right. The bleach hurt, but by the next morning, the sores had dried out, and with a little cortisone cream, the itch was controllable. Today, the poison ivy is still visible, but it bothers me no more.