Yuck - my itchies discovered

I've had a rash since early August. It started as a mosquito-bite-like bump on my hip. It really itched, but I tried my best not to scratch it. Then I got another bump on the other hip. They were symmetrical bumps in size, shape, and placement on me. It itched too. Then those two bumps spread into a rash that looked like they gave birth to a bunch of baby bumps just below them, on my upper thighs. Wow - what an itch. But again, I held off scratching. What I lack in many things I make up for in discipline.

Then I went to the dermatologist - Dr. Broichmann, an arrogant guy who makes me wait 45 minutes for each visit - who said it's probably just a reaction to something. "Change everything - clothes, soaps, detergents, lotions, etc.," he said. He also prescribed an anti-itch cream. Confused, I changed everything and put the cream on religiously ... to no avail. The itching continued. The cream was a waste.

Then those baby bumps had more baby bumps under me bum. Crazy itching ensued. "Did that cream give me more itchies?" But, again, like a proud monk practicing ascetic denial, I didn't scratch it.

Then I went to Broichmann again, complaining. "Oh, it must be eczema," he said. "Of course ... eczema," he said almost hitting himself in the head.

So, despite the fact that I didn't have dry skin and had never had itchy skin before, Broichmann prescribed eczema cream. That actually halted the itching temporarily, but didn't do much for the spread of the rash, which continued its onward front south, enveloping my lower thighs, knees, and then jumped down to my ankles and feet.

So - back to Broichmann's. It's now October. Once again he blew me off, saying it was eczema, it was no big deal, and prescribed a stronger eczema cream and a dry-skin cream. The cream sucked. AARGH! BROICHMANN! The rash spread to my chest, underarms, and wrists. The itching got worse too. It got so bad I couldn't sleep at night, causing me to show up to work in zombie mode, blaming it on the newborn who was such an angel. She slept more soundly than daddy.

It's now November....15 weeks of itchies. I went to Broichmann again determined to get a different diagnosis. I sat there in his office waiting the standard 45 minutes to be seen just fuming. I'm itchy. I'm frustrated. I'm exhausted. And I have to wait for this loser to tell me it’s eczema again.

Broichmann came in. We talked. He listened. He looked on his computer (probably doing a google search) and said I might have Sarcoptes scabiei. Scabies. Latin for scratch.

Yuck – bugs. Hundreds and hundreds of microscopic bugs burrowing in my skin, laying eggs, and poo-pooing indiscriminately. Well, he wasn’t sure, he said. But he prescribed a cream (Infectoscab) anyway. He also took blood and asked for me to bring in a stool sample (nope – not doing that) to determine if it was something else.

So I went home, did some research, discovered that I have all the typical scabies symptoms, tried the cream, and am now enjoying the wonderfully slow recovery process of three more weeks of itching while my skins grows new layers and pushes out all the bug poopoo.

WHAT THAT MEANS. Well, the worst part is that since you scabies is transmitted through skin contact and/or shared linens, I’ve already given it to Kate. So, yesterday we had to take all our clothes and linens to the laudromat for a hotwash.

WHAT THAT ALSO MEANS. I’ve mostly likely given it to our darling three-week old daughter. Sadly, she can’t use the insecticide cream Kate and I used because she’s too young for a carcinogen of that caliber. So, because it takes four-to-six weeks for scabies babies to hatch and become apparent on the skin, we won’t know for another few weeks whether she has it. And if she does, well, that means Kate and I have it again and, once again, we have to hotwash everything. But this time, we’ll give her the carcinogenic insecticide. We have no choice.

Just imagine how guilty I feel.

Oh – and I also gave it to Pecos. Now imagine how dirty it feels to give a freaking dog a freaking mite infestation. Yeah. That’s dirty.

So, as gross, distressing, upsetting, chaotic, confusing, uncomfortable, and exhausting as this has been – and as ill-timed as it was – it’s now coming to an end. Only three more weeks of crazy itching!

Until Elizabeth’s bugs start to hatch.

Yuck.