…or, Post Traumatic Itch Disorder

The now infamous Rains of May have greened up our whole patch, from wildflowers to the fruit trees to the front yard. Unfortunately, it has resulted in another bumper crop of poison ivy. Like maybe 70% to 80% of the population, I am sensitive to its allergen, urushiol, but I have gotten pretty good at spotting it in the pastures and under trees.
Tonight’s outdoor work was firing up the DR mower to carve a bike trail/walking path down past the pond to the back fence, past the blackberry bramble, through the south pasture and the orchard to the driveway. As I went, though, I ran into several healthy stands of poison ivy, as well as some hiding in the tall grass. I was able to stay out of it, I think, but as a precaution I came home early and had a double soapy cool shower.
So here’s where it gets weird. Every time I fight the good fight against poison ivy, whenever I close my eyes in the shower, I see poison ivy leaves. Man, I am damaged goods.

Understandable. You’ve got PTSD.
And when I’m cleaning my ears in the shower, I can ‘hear’ my phone ringing. Tinnitus is such a bitch at times.