Thursday, June 26, 2014


OK, so you know how I said that this blog wasn't going to become all about my scaly arm rash?

I might have lied.

Nah, don't worry, I'll try not to talk about it much in the future, but since it is currently consuming me (possibly literally, if what my arm looks like is any indication) I needed to give you an update that is less a progress report on the arm thing and more a "Wow, I'm a genius" report.

Yesterday I finally just had to take the arm band and watch off.  It was starting to actually hurt to wear it.  Also, my inner wrist (is that what it's called?) had started breaking out in a weird rash too, even though the watch band itself was only made of plastic and not whatever material near the charging port that was trying to burn through my wrist bone. 

A normal person, a person with common sense, would have put the stupid watch into her purse, or maybe burnt it with some chicken feathers and grave dirt to try and reverse the damage it had done.  Did I do either of those things? 


No, because I'm a genius, I just switched the stupid thing to my other arm.  I didn't even think about it.  I moved the arm band and the watch to my right arm and left it there all day.  I left it there until right before I went to bed, and the only reason I thought to take it off was because my right wrist was stinging.

Now I have a brand new red, itchy, welted spot on my right wrist!  Also, it completely explains why it's taking so fricking long for the left arm to heal!  The arm band wasn't protecting me at all! I was being allergic through the damned thing the whole time!  What the hell is wrong with me?  Just because it is a different arm doesn't mean that it won't have the same reaction!  I felt so stupid.  In fact, to show myself just how dumb I thought I'd been, I made myself this little video:


I gave myself "Wife Face." Generally, that is reserved for only the dumbest things that Steve manages to do, and yet, I gave it to myself.  Feel free to save that and use it when you want people to know they've been an idiot, and yet you don't have the energy to tell them yourself.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014


1) My dog is going senile.  Last night he barked at the door constantly and I barely got any sleep.  Usually he only does this if he can hear the cat out there and I understand that.  Dogs are apparently supposed to remain completely paranoid about any cat that they can't immediately eat or make friends with, but he is just getting ridiculous.  I honestly think he barks at the door because there is a tiny chance that the cat might be out there.  He also barks at the door if my chair squeaks, or if one of my shoes bumps up against the kennel, or if I clear my throat.  Basically, I'm beginning to wonder if he thinks the door itself is evil.  Also, he doesn't just bark at it, he runs nose first into it and then barks at it.  I don't mind this when it happens occasionally, but when he does it for the majority of the time I'm trying to sleep, it gets old.  Last night I had to get up and sleep in the chair in the living room, because it seems if I'm in the room with the evil door, he doesn't have to bark at it as much.  If I'm in the room, I can clearly see the door (and whatever is on the other side of it) is evil and he doesn't have to tell me from across the house. 

I'd like to think he's just being protective, but I'm fairly sure he's losing his mind.

2) I had to be at work at 7:00 this morning, so the sleeping was important!  The youth kids were leaving on their summer trip, and I had to be here in case any last minute medical forms needed to be notarized. Oh, yeah, I finally got my stampy-punchy notary thing!  I'm official! :)

I got asked a couple of really uncomfortable questions by the kids, which I tried to answer honestly enough, but geez.  One girl asked why I hated them and wouldn't chaperone the trip.  Oy.  I told her I'd be a terrible chaperone because I'm not mature enough.  That was 100% true.  I don't know how to handle kids!  I always feel terrible if I have to get on to them for anything, and I'd be responsible for telling them to do stuff and wouldn't know how in the world to back up any sort of discipline! Also, (and I didn't say this because I didn't want to insult them) I don't enjoy kids/teenagers.  I mean, I like being around them for a little while, and even with just one or two at a time I'm o.k., but my patience is so short with them.  I don't want to say or do anything rude or hurtful to anyone, especially kids who are at a sensitive age where they take everything to heart so readily, and it's really more of my own idiosyncratic nature than anything that kids have ever done to me personally.  I have to be able to get away from them from time to time to be able to be around them at all, and in a chaperone situation, you can't get away from them.  I know I don't really have to explain myself to anyone, but I'm just making it clear I'm not being randomly hateful about kids. I just know myself well enough to know what I can and can't deal with, and if anyone wants to misinterpret that, then they are free to do so and then cram their indignation into whichever cram-hole they choose. Cram it deep.

Another kids asked if I drank.  Well...crap.  I don't anymore, or at least it's very rare if I do, and it caught me so off guard that I didn't know what to say!  Actually what I said was "Wha-wha-what? Nuh-nuh-no, no not anymore. I mean I have, but I was very bad at it." There was a perfect moment to probably make some sort of speech about being responsible or something, but I panicked.

I managed to get off of the bus before they asked me anything else. Thank goodness.

3) My arm still looks gross, but it's getting better.  I made the mistake of putting something called "Liquid Bandage" on it, so I wouldn't have to wear a Band-Aid on it anymore.  It's like a protecting varnish for the skin, and it flakes off, but only in patches.  It's very attractive.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014


I realized that I didn't want to leave that last entry about my Lizard-by-way-of-Naked-Mole-Rat rash just hanging out there, just in case a new reader pops in and only reads the first entry and thinks that all I talk about is gross, disfiguring allergic reactions.  I don't, really, do that on a regular basis, but it pays to be careful on the internet.   In fact, let me just say this:

Dear Reader,

Hi!  Welcome. I shake you warmly by the hand. I don't normally talk about gross things on my blog, but I thought it would be OK to talk about my weird rash, just this once, since I didn't post pictures of it. I actually try and talk about interesting stuff (when I have interesting stuff to talk about) so please don't judge me on that part.  Judge me on just about anything else, if you want.  Well, not just about anything. Pick something that know, never mind. Get to know me first and then judge me. Or not.  This isn't going well.  I'm babbling.  Instead, here is a picture of a Corgi in a bow tie.

It's hard not to like a person who could put up a picture of a corgi in a bow tie.

He's not my corgi.  If he was, his name would be Brandon.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014


About a month ago I woke up and found a weird, itchy, red splotch on my left wrist. 

It was about an inch and a half long and an inch wide, and it covered that knobby little wrist bone that sticks out on the side.  My first thought was that it was a bug bite, which didn't make me happy because that would mean something crawly and bitey had gotten in bed with me and decided to take a nibble of my arm.  I wasn't too worried, though, because it was just itchy and red, and as long as it didn't spread, I was OK with it. 

Well, it didn't spread, but it didn't get any better, either. In fact, it got worse. I couldn't see a bite mark on it, so I ruled out an insect bite, and decided that it was probably poison ivy.  I don't usually break out from poison ivy, but there is a first time for everything!  I remembered that when I was trying to pull a weed out of some of my flowers, the plant swung back and slapped me on the wrist and it stung.  OK, poison ivy it had to be, right?  The red splotch swelled up and got all wrinkled, like the skin of a naked mole rat.  Yeah, it was gross, but again, at least is didn't spread.

Since I'd never had a reaction to poison ivy before, I didn't know if that was normal or not.  It didn't seem like it would be normal, but I'm not a dermatologist!  I tried moving my FitBit to my other arm to keep it off of the rash, but it felt weird on that arm, so I found some of these little cuff things (I honestly don't know what they are, but they're like wide bracelets made out of tights) and started wearing them under my Fitbit to keep it off of the itchy spot as well as to cover it up.  I had to!  I didn't want someone coming to talk to me and suddenly seeing my naked-mole-rat-arm-rash and wondering if I was contagious!  It was embarrassing and itchy and gross and ugly, and I wasn't going to put anyone through that.
Two Words: Triage Fashion

So, that lasted about two weeks and during that time the pastor and Mr. Lee both asked me why I was wearing the cuff. I suppose fashion isn't a good enough answer!  So I showed them the rash and they said it was poison ivy and that I shouldn't wear the cuff over it.  It would get better sooner if I didn't cover it up.  OK, then.  I still wore the cuff while at church, just so I didn't gross anyone out, but I took it off at home.  It didn't get better.  In fact, it went from Naked Mole Rat to "Possibly Turning Into a Lizard" really fast.  Not to disgust you or anything, but the whole thing got scabby and red and it looked like I was molting like a snake. You're very lucky I didn't wake a picture of it because none of you would ever sit next to me again, just in case.  Steve said I should go to the doctor (and I'd have said the same thing if it was someone else) but I felt dumb going to the doctor over an arm rash!  That's like going to the doctor because you twisted your ankle! I told him it was just poison ivy and it would go away.  

I had ultimately taken to wearing the cuff all the time, as well as a giant band-aid, and putting cream on it every day. It seemed to slowly start to get better. Slowly.  However, the longer it was there, even in the "getting better" stage, I began to worry that it was something other than poison ivy.  If it had been a bug bite, it might have been something poisonous - and if you've ever seen what a brown recluse can do to a person, you'd have worried too.  But my arm didn't rot off, thank goodness.  It still looked like it was healing, but now it looked like I'd been badly burned and was healing.  Seriously, folks, it was less gross, but still gross. I had SCALES!

Finally, (and why I didn't think of it sooner, I'll never know) something that had been in the back of my mind the whole time suddenly popped up and I couldn't ignore it anymore.  When I'd bought my watch (It's a FitBit Force) there was a disclaimer that some people get skin irritation due to the charge port on the back of the thing.  I'd been wearing it for months with no problem, so ignored the warning.  It wasn't until things got as bad as they did that I decided to look up what kind of problems people were having.  All the pictures; Every. Stinking. One. Had the same kind of weird, wrinkly rash on it that I'd had.  I was allergic to my watch, and I'd continued to wear it on my bare skin, which is why it kept getting worse.  I had no idea because I'd never had a contact allergy before, so I didn't know what was going on.

Now that my arm is getting better, I've got to figure out a way to make a new band for the FitBit that will cover up the back of it so that my skin doesn't come into contact with the charging port anymore.  I could technically send it back and get refunded, but I like the thing.  I just feel stupid for not realizing what was going on sooner. As long as I don't actually turn into a reptile, I should be OK.
Actually, that might not be so bad...