Whitey Tighties

(Part 2 of the Itchy and Scratchy Show)

I’ve always thought I was allergic to exercise. Turns out that may not be too far from the mark, as I appear to have developed a sensitivity due to the accoutrements of exercise. At least that is the latest theory.

Last Friday I was able to see the “A-Team” of doctors who diagnose mysteriously itchy skin. Dan and I drove to Madison early in the morning hopeful that some answer would be forthcoming. Dan, by the way, has become my official note taker at these appointments, making sure all the critical details are carefully recorded for later review.

The first doctor who came in was a resident. He took a detailed history, asking questions, and the answers I provided caused him to ask even more questions. After a good 30 minutes of this he asked to see the problem areas. Face and neck involved? Yes. Back, arms, breasts, stomach, butt, thighs, calves…oh, but look, palms and feet are not involved. Hmmm, interesting. He excused himself to get the specialist.

The next doctor came in. She started with the responses I had given the resident. The history of the situation was critical and she was interested to hear in what order my skin had bloomed. She asked a lot of questions about the effectiveness of the various creams and lotions prescribed. What had helped the most? The least? And then an even deeper dive. What kind of environment do I work in? What do I wear to work? What do I wear to the gym? Am I better over the weekend? And on.

Finally, I was getting the time and attention to my condition I had hoped for. She announced that the next best step is patch testing, about 60 variants of substances that might be causing the problem, but with my skin in it’s current condition that was not an immediate option. A strategy was needed to clear up my back.

She asked me to wear a shield under all my clothes -- white cotton or white silk. This layer would provide a barrier from the current suspected irritant, my sports bras and dyes in my clothing. I haven’t worn a white cotton t-shirt since I was 12. I have friends (bless them) whose only undergarment is a tank top. This is not an option for me. I’m “Rubenesque” and body parts need to be held in place. I was never good at science, but I understand Newton’s first law of motion, and the more troubling effects of gravity. The practical implications for me are as follows: if I started jogging without a bra I’d likely lose an eye, and then immediately experience the cruel pull of gravity closing the distance between my untethered body and the ground (I saw my Grandma once, in the bathtub, and I’ll never erase that image from my mind).

Under armour.

Fast forward, I am now the proud owner of white cotton tees, white granny panties and some white muscle shirts. I’m on a serious hunt for white cotton bras, both daywear and sports (ladies, suggestions most welcome), and I’m pretty sure I’ve devised a strategy to keep on exercising without the offending garment causing problems. White cotton, a few new creams and a few weeks of Phototherapy should have my back clear enough to patch test.

But back to Dan, ever attentive during this entire visit. He asked the final pertinent questions, “Doctor, we will be in Key West in two weeks – will ocean water or a pool be a problem? How about sun exposure?” The doctor responded that hot tubs, pools or the ocean would not be a problem. She then added that I should get as much sun as possible without burning. She said this three times. Dan, studious like he never was in school made direct eye contact,  nodded and made the appropriate detailed notes.

On our way out to the car both Dan and I felt hopeful. Finally, someone who can help us get to the bottom of this. I asked Dan if he had captured all the key points. He turned to me and said “What I heard was that the doctor wants you to be topless as much as possible in Key West. That you are under Doctor’s orders to report to a white plastic lounge chair on the Southernmost Beach for massive doses of vitamin D daily, and I need to apply liberal doses of sun screen on a regular basis. These are orders from a specialist. ”

What’s next? A new note taker!