I do not know what I ate, touched, or thought about to deserve this itching, but it kept me up most of the night. Creams do nothing. Actually scratching only feels good for a fleeting moment, then starts to hurt but when you stop you have to start again becuase it is SO. FRICKEN. ITCHY.
It started with a patch under my ring. That has happened before. It could be a reaction to metal in general, or maybe there was some moisture trapped under from washing my hands a bagillion times. Then it started along the bottom band of my bra. Then a bigger patch appeared on the back of my hand. Hmmm. Now, my hand, brassier area, inside of my right thigh, the spot right between my shoulder blades (JUST past where I can reach, mind you) and a few other small spots. The itching is so intense I am tempted to roll around on the bag containing my DPN's and hope something gets scratched. I have a scratchy sweater drapped over the back of my chair - so scratchy in fact I can't wear it normally but today that factor is a bonus - so that occasionally I can squiggle around and try to appease that area between the shoulder blades. It is not pretty my friends, as it requires hiking up the back of my shirt and gyrations a person of my magnitude should never get up to.
My husband, being the caring being that he is, just stands and grins ear to ear while I suffer. Because to his perverted and demented mind I am sure it looks like I am groping myself, when really it is a concentrated effort to relieve that horrible itch! He looked all too eager to help me with some anti-itch cream, and was genuinely disappointed that the invitation was not a euphamism for something ELSE - and that yes I did really just want him to spread some smelly anti-itch cream on me. And just in the places I cannot reach myself, thank you. Sheesh.
I have a call in to the doctor, and the nurse practitioner does NOT think I have developed an allergy to any of my medications. She says it could be dry skin. Okay. My whole body is a big flake and has been so for like a month (once the snow hits, I get flakey no matter how much lotion). Then she said maybe it is the lotion, only I haven't used any for a week because I ran out. Nothing has changed - laundry detergent, soap or shampoo, diet, nothing. I did try a new vegetable (celery root) but seeing as I didn't rub it around on my bra vicinity nor inner thigh area, the chances that is the culprit are pretty slim. "Perhaps it is nerves. Are you under any stress?". Insert a long pause, then hyserical laughter here. "If I were going to get a rash due to stress, I would have died from itchiness years ago". They will let me know later on either to come in to the office or just go downstairs and pick up a prescription. I hope it isn't too much later, I am sure the package delivery man doesn't want to watch me scratch at my bra area or thigh region. Or maybe he does, in which case we have bigger problems than I even thought and all men are pigs.
I have decided to abandon the skull mittens that were too small, only a few inches into the second one. I will pull it apart and use the yarn to make hats and maybe some flat mittens (the simple, two needle kind WITHOUT subliminal skulls) because I really do like it. But somehow I have screwed up the pattern and the second one just looks awful, and the tension is bothering my shoulder of all things. To go through all that for mittens one cannot even wear is just too much. But all is not lost, for I have started a NEW mitten pattern that I created myself - based on the skull one. Making concessions for gigantic hands, of course (insert eyeroll here). The first mitten is done (although it has no thumb yet) and I am ready to cast on the second. These are going to be big enough for SURE. In fact there might even be enough room to squish my hand in there wearing those thin, stretchy gloves for extra warmth if I need it. This is the front.
This is the palm. Note that piece of darker green yarn marking where the thumb will be. That is "waste yarn" holding those stitches, and one hopes that one can pull out that waste yarn, catching the live stitches with a needle and not losing any. One has a good sense of humour, methinks because it is never easy for me to do such maneuvers. It is nerve wracking, tedious, tense, and I look a great deal like I am performing micro-nerve reattachment or something. The endeaver usually includes squinting up my eyes, sticking out my tongue or pursing my lips, the insistance on complete silence (and a severe shriek lashing if even the tinest sound is made, including dog farts, straw slurps, or hiccups. Don't even think about speaking or asking for something from me), and every light on in the house. You know those huge white lights they have that light runways at night? I need one of those. Because of all that I have decided to leave both thumbs for last, and to complete the second mitten before finishing the thumb from the first.
This can be risky. What if I finish them both to discover some glaring error with the thumb hole, that I could have corrected in the second mitten? What if it gets so cold outside that I would willingly wear a single mitten rather than risk frostbite on both hands? What if I get hit with a meteor before I can finish the thumbs? What if there is a freak volcanic eruption that engulfs our house in lava, and hundreds of years later they excavate and declare the discovery of a new civilization, one that did not have any thumbs, based on the mittens they find entombed? I will have to take those chances and forge on in spite of them. We should have cuffage by this evening.
Speaking of evenings. Most knitting patterns don't attempt to tell you how long it might take to complete a piece. They give things like weight of yarn and maybe yardage, and warn that it all depends on your tension (how tight or loose you knit, what size needles, and so on). But because knitting is done by hand, and everybody knits at their own pace, it really is impossible to say how long something should take. Ladies and children in third world countries who get paid piece-work knit a heck of a lot faster than a grandmother in North America making booties for a baby that is six months from birth. A college student who knits socially won't make nearly the progress of somebody knitting on the bus for an hour each way every day as part of their commute. Because of this, I have always been amused when people express, as part of their pattern or in way of explanation for a finished object, "It only took a couple of days" or "it was pretty quick". That mitten? That mitten was done in an evening. WOW, you are thinking. She must be a very quick knitter.
Notice that I did not tell you that "evening" started right after dinner and ended after midnight. Over 6 hours of straight knitting. No interruptions, no getting up to let the dog out or make snacks for the seven year old who has had to let the dog out because I am not getting up, no pee breaks. "It must be nice to have that kind of time". Let me get one thing straight right now. NOBODY has that kind of time. You have to shift duties and know your priorities. DH spent most of the weekend pissed off because I sat for six hours straight and made a mitten when there was laundry to be done, dusting, vacuuming, picking up, hell the house is a disgrace. How dare I WASTE six hours knitting a mitten. And do you want to know how I can waste six hours knitting a mitten? (We aren't going to discuss that he sat planted on his rear that whole entire time watching tv, for that same six hours). I can waste six hours knitting a mitten because that mitten will last me years. It will likely outlast me altogether if I take care of it. The living room will be messy again a minute after I am done. The mittens aren't going to UNMAKE themselves. Get it?
Or maybe I would just rather knit a mitten than do house work. *Cough*