The sudden feeling...A careless reach to your leg to give it a little scratch. Then the flaming itch begins. Oh no! I've got poison oak! Don’t scratch Don’t scratch! That mantra will keep me from going insane. As long as I don’t scratch, it won't be so bad.
But late at night in bed...Oh the burning. Please please? Just one little scratch? My foot unconsciously begins scratching my leg with my nice, sharp big toe. Ahhh. It's orgasmic! Wait no! I promised myself I wouldn’t scratch. So I stop.
But the burning, the yearning. I just want the pleasure of the scratching... This is agony.
I knew I would get poison oak. Bushwhacking through poison oak with short pants on is not too smart. But when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Or in this case, poisonade. A diary of what it’s like to get poison oak.
