I have recently had a rash surface on my skin. I say surface because I’ve not been anywhere to “catch” a rash since my “platypus dive” in my driveway. That was last January and the resulting lumbar compression fracture effectively kept me indoors.
So, when this rash became evident, COVID-19 necessitated a phone visit with my Dermatologist. If I had shown her the worst of my rash, …well let’s just say the FCC frowns on electronic nudism.
Long story short, she told me to use a particular cream she prescribed. This undefined rash recalls the longer story which follows. That time it was far more than just an unsightly rash. From 2008…
I’ve got an itch. No, not a mosquito bite type itch. Not even a dozen bites itch. This is like a colony of insects have taken residence under my skin…everywhere, and no amount of scratching can persuade them to leave.
When I went to the doctor for a remedy, he was unable to discover the root cause. There were lots of possibilities. He reasoned that it was likely an allergic reaction. In lieu of some specific remedy, he suggested I stop doing something, …not sure what, but something, to see if the itch would go away.
So what to give up? Hmmm. When I was a young man I drank way too much “Detroit River Water”, smoked everything from vines to stogies, and consumed enough cholesterol to clog the Windsor Tunnel. Not to mention my frequent habit of carousing around ‘til all hours of the night, chasing all manner of women… and a few without manners, too.
And that was just my college years.
In my thirties I added overindulgence of sugar and salt as well as escalating most of my other bad habits to just short of excessive. At least, in my estimation, it was less than excessive. I cannot recall excessive libation to the extent of being drunk. Of course, there were times when I could not recall falling down either.
Such a wild and glorious lifestyle has its price. Ironically, it also provides remedy. Through the years, as one affliction after another would wage war on my well being, I would simply give up one of my vices and feel better for it.
My misfortune, at the moment, is that I have no vice in reserve. No bad habit to offer as sacrifice to my current ailments. I’m a sinking ship with no baggage to throw overboard. I’ve surrendered the pleasures of tobacco, alcohol, carousing and overindulgence of fats and cholesterol. I’ve even severely reduced such delights as chocolate, salt and peanuts. Yup, even my handful a day peanut habit is now reduced to “for medicinal purposes only”. What?, …you’ve not heard of nuts as an antioxidant?
Now, with this itch pestering me and no obvious cause, I fear there is nothing left for the doctor to proscribe. Perhaps I should have clung to a few evil cravings so the medical profession could find something for me to renounce.
I am surely not suggesting that any of you have a bad habit. However, if you do, do not relinquish it prematurely. Wait until you have an itch that won’t go away, so the doctor will have something to prohibit for cure.