Have you ever had an itch so severe that no matter how hard or frequent you scratched, you were in a losing battle?
My worst itching nightmare happened four weeks ago when I helped remove an old shrub in Mom’s backyard. Unwisely, I wore a short sleeve shirt, shorts, no hat, and no gloves. Anything but ready for yard work, I looked more dressed for an afternoon jog than a tug of war with a deeply rooted small tree. Head strong and void of common sense, I forged ahead arrogantly and ignorantly, becoming intimate with wild vines slithering through the dead branches of Mom’s favorite flowering bush. Mom, ever cautious, said something like, “Son, watch out for poison ivy!” Did I really need to be reminded of “leaflets three, let it be?!” I had encountered dangerous plants before, but I saw nothing truly menacing like wild thorns or briar thickets. Plus, I had ivy rashes many times over the years and was surely immune to the poison. Hattiesburg is not home to poison ivy’s cousins, poison oak or poison sumac, so I mistakenly thought, and if I get a little oily resin on me, a small temporary rash is no big deal.
So, I whacked away, swimming and sweating in the toxic leaves on a sweltering hot day. The bush became such a challenge that I completely threw caution to the wind and forgot about Mom’s warning and the wild vegetation lathering my skin. For good measure, while whipping that shrub, I used my arms to wipe my brow, face, and legs, spreading Earth’s toxins all over my body. By the end of my wrestling plant match, I was unknowingly covered in the oils of Toxicodendron radican, a natural chemical called urushiol. This painful irritant waits a couple of days, sinking into your skin, charging its engines before lighting its torches, like fire ants unloading a barrage of stingers.
Sure enough, I developed a rash, then an itch and more bumps, followed by a full on wave of incessant itch insanity. From head to toe, I developed pink spotty rashes that migrated to colonies of tiny bumps with long comet-like red streaks. Over the counter ointments, prescription steroidal creams, and home remedies were no match for the mother of all poison ivy outbreaks. Days turned to weeks, wounds turned to scars, and my ego turned to scrambled eggs. I’m pretty sure that I had done everything wrong when encountering poison ivy.
Almost 85% of humanity is allergic to this plant. In South Mississippi, poison ivy, oak, and sumac thrive in our wet and humid environment. Gloves, long sleeves, soap washing after contact, and awareness are critical to skin protection and a good night’s sleep. Trust me, a poison ivy itch-a-thon is aggravating, distracting, and embarrassing in a room full of perplexed onlookers. So, if you have an itch to get out in nature among the vines, scratch my haphazard approach and be careful to protect your skin at all costs.
Clark Hicks is a lawyer who lives in Hattiesburg. His email is clark@hicksattorneys.com.