Since I have a tendency to focus on the really horrible things that might go wrong - spinning a simple rash into a deadly skin cancer that will kill me in days - here are five positive things that came from my mistaken diagnosis of ringworm.
ONE: After they got the over the image of me submerged in a bleach bath, my friends and family got a really good laugh when Husband informed me that bleach smelled like sperm and that therefore I smelled like sperm. And, apparently, most male friends of mine agreed with Husband - the sperm smelling part, not me smelling like sperm part. I told the chiropractor this when telling him about my bleach bath, "So, funny story. My husband thinks sperm smells like bleach..." and he asked why Husband would know what sperm smelled like... Um. Huh. I did not know how to respond to that comment...
I still don't.
TWO: I may be out of shape and not the most attractive to look at in my all together but nothing on my body resembles the horrors I’ve seen online.
THREE: When I finally got off my ass to see my doctor, I remembered that I really like my doctor. The fact that I found her online and picked her solely because her last name was Payne - wicked appropriate for a doctor - is a bonus.
FOUR: My scare distracted me from worrying about several dozen other things for a few days. Like what I should sell first when husband un-expectedly dies because I’ll need some way to maintain my current lifestyle of hard apple cider and French fries? And, when Husband says "Good news! I fixed a tiny gas leak." how many other tiny gas leaks might he have missed?
FIVE: Because it was recommended to prevent Ringworm from spreading or re-infecting me, I washed my sheets and towels every day and lived like Oprah for a week. Clean sheets every night is awesome. The washing them part, not so awesome. The putting them back on the bed each and every day really sucks.
So there you have it. I'm Ringworm free! Of course, there is a small chance this isn't Pityriasis Rosea and I actually have something worse - like Lyme disease or Syphilis - but I'll worry about that Tuesday. Tuesday is far, far away and I don't smell like bleach and I don't have to spend 45min slathering cream on the hard to reach parts of my back that may or may not be creepy spreading Ringworm because I don't have Ringworm! (More happy dancing.)
I was in such a good mood on the way home from the doc that I actually looked around instead of driving in that tunnel funk that we all get into. And as I was driving, I spotted this guy removing the out of control winter jasmine bush from our new neighbor’s house pulled over and asked the for some of the roots. I have no idea if they’ll take but I managed to plant several rescued pieces that may someday become beautiful bushes that will bring a color to the grey winter landscape that is currently my yard.
I have officially become my mother. And I’m okay with that.