First of all, you'll see me without a shirt on, and that visage is something no one but my wife has a desire on which to gaze.
Secondly, as if my shirtless image weren't disturbing enough, you'll see on my skin the remnants of a parasitic attack.
You've been warned.
You see, last Friday I spent the night at a camp with a bunch of men from our church. It was a wonderful weekend getaway, a great camp, lots of fun times, great conversations, and thoughtful time with God.
Evidently, though, I was not alone in my bed on Friday night. I had some very small companions of the insect variety. And while I lay in my bunk, they voraciously and thoroughly feasted on my blood.
Yes. I slept with bed bugs.
Karen noticed on Saturday evening as I climbed into bed that I had some strange spots on my back, but I was exhausted and nearly passed out as my head hit the pillow. When I awakened on Sunday, as I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, I noticed there were spots all over my chest and arms, as well as my back. Strange...
A quick google search before I left for church indicated either fleas or bed bugs. We were thinking perhaps fleas, because most people do not show reactions to bed bug bites for almost a week. Mine had shown up in less than 24 hours.
By the time church was over, I was turning into an itching, writhing, scratchy mess. And the marks were popping up everywhere from my waist to face. Disturbing.
I took two baths with epsom salt on Sunday aft and eve, Karen slathered me in Caladryl -- I was a lovely shade pink on pretty much every inch of skin from my waist to my chin -- and then I took two Benadryl before bed. That'll knock me out AND stop the itching, I thought.
Oh how simple-minded and foolish I am.
The benadryl lasted for about 3 hours before I woke myself up scratching furiously. So much for sleep.
I went to the doctor on Monday afternoon (after a day at the office spent in a vain effort at avoiding scratching and getting work done). The doc said bed bugs, as evidenced by the rows of bites as shown above, in several places on my body. Apparently, the little parasites find a place they like and then simply move up in line and suck a little more.
A lovely mental image, I know. I can't dwell on it long without shuddering.
I just shuddered again typing that.
Fortunately, the doc loaded me up with a prescription for prednisone, so by Monday at bed time, the itchiness had abated enough that I could sleep. And the bites are now less blotchy and shrinking ever so slightly. I still look freakish and a bit squirm-inducing, but I can make it through my day without constant scratching.
Of course, I think I'm developing a bit of "roid rage", so pray for my family as I don't stop taking the meds until Friday.
If you hear of a man with spotted skin going postal in Utah, you know what happened.
