itchy itch
Today I finally decided that I have, indeed, developed a tomato allergy.
I guess this is what comes, for someone with sensitive skin, from processing close to a thousand tomatoes over the past month and a half. I think I can still eat them -- or, at least, my reactions so far seem to be entirely epidermic.
What I know: Before I left the farm in July, I had a small spot on my left hand that itched. One or two little bumps. Naturally, I itched at them. I have little self-discipline when it comes to things like bugbites, and that's what I'd assumed this was. And while the spot didn't heal, precisely, during my month away, it didn't get much worse, either.
Zoom ahead to now: The itchiness and small bumps have spread to both hands - the backs of my hands, my knuckles, and my wrists; to my elbows; lower arms; and - curiously - my feet, but only along the tanlines from my sandals. Noticing that, last week, clued me in that this must be some kind of external reaction, not something internal, as I'd originally wondered. (And if you're wondering why I haven't gone to the damn doctor already, it's because I suspect the damn doctor will tut-tut and give me cortisone or benadryl or something like that, and tell me to call him again in two weeks.) I haven't worn my sandals without shoes since, and the itchy spots have not spread.
All along, I've been canning tomatoes, roasted marinara sauce, and salsa. Sometimes for days in a row. And I've been using tomatoes in meals almost daily, and harvesting and pruning tomato plants down in the garden. Did you know (and I didn't) that every part of the tomato but the fruit is toxic to humans? Now, that's technically only if you ingest the other bits of tomatoes, but then I have extraordinarily sensitive skin, and a helluva lot of exposure...
Personal tests are underway, but I can say that my arms didn't really itch until last week, when I made tomato soup (from scratch; it was delicious) and got juice on my lower arms. It seems like the more I itch, the more I have to itch. Highly inconvenient for one prone to itching.
I've been using aloe and a natural cream my mum got me, and while that's done a great job keeping my skin moisturized (and, hey, dry skin itches even more), it hasn't helped much beyond that. Finally today Val suggested I try a spot-test with some honey. I've used honey on beestings before, and it's worked - I thought, well, it can't hurt at this point.
And you know what? As soon as I rubbed honey on a particularly itchy spot, the itching stopped. Literally. Using a q-tip (okay, several q-tips; I didn't want to, you know, double-dip), I honeyed up several areas on my hands and arms, and finally, finally, enjoyed some relief.
The only bad thing about having honey on oneself is that -- well, one's got honey on oneself. I'd complained to Val and Paba that any time I brushed against something, I'd start itching all over again, and Paba - who's a cheeky one - said, "Hey! Now every time you brush against something, you'll just stick to it!" Thanks. So I'd remember which spots I'd honeyed, I put little squares of paper towels over them. Val said I looked a bit like C-3PO, with my arms sticking out at my sides. I obliged her with some robot noises.
I cautiously sat down to read for a while -- and discovered that my honeyed wrists had suddenly become the point of attraction for the household fly population. Sigh. Finally I washed the honey off, and resigned myself to being itchy. But, although I'd scrubbed my arms and hands with a washcloth, none of the (previously) honeyed areas itched again for five or six hours. Heeey! I'll definitely take that!
I'm going to have Val get me some benadryl when she goes into town tomorrow, if only because it's a bit easier to use that and still, you know, wear sweaters, than it is to use honey. In the meantime, I am under strict orders to avoid all tomatoes for the next two weeks, to see if my itchiness abates. I don't think I'll have trouble complying with that.
I guess this is what comes, for someone with sensitive skin, from processing close to a thousand tomatoes over the past month and a half. I think I can still eat them -- or, at least, my reactions so far seem to be entirely epidermic.
What I know: Before I left the farm in July, I had a small spot on my left hand that itched. One or two little bumps. Naturally, I itched at them. I have little self-discipline when it comes to things like bugbites, and that's what I'd assumed this was. And while the spot didn't heal, precisely, during my month away, it didn't get much worse, either.
Zoom ahead to now: The itchiness and small bumps have spread to both hands - the backs of my hands, my knuckles, and my wrists; to my elbows; lower arms; and - curiously - my feet, but only along the tanlines from my sandals. Noticing that, last week, clued me in that this must be some kind of external reaction, not something internal, as I'd originally wondered. (And if you're wondering why I haven't gone to the damn doctor already, it's because I suspect the damn doctor will tut-tut and give me cortisone or benadryl or something like that, and tell me to call him again in two weeks.) I haven't worn my sandals without shoes since, and the itchy spots have not spread.
All along, I've been canning tomatoes, roasted marinara sauce, and salsa. Sometimes for days in a row. And I've been using tomatoes in meals almost daily, and harvesting and pruning tomato plants down in the garden. Did you know (and I didn't) that every part of the tomato but the fruit is toxic to humans? Now, that's technically only if you ingest the other bits of tomatoes, but then I have extraordinarily sensitive skin, and a helluva lot of exposure...
Personal tests are underway, but I can say that my arms didn't really itch until last week, when I made tomato soup (from scratch; it was delicious) and got juice on my lower arms. It seems like the more I itch, the more I have to itch. Highly inconvenient for one prone to itching.
I've been using aloe and a natural cream my mum got me, and while that's done a great job keeping my skin moisturized (and, hey, dry skin itches even more), it hasn't helped much beyond that. Finally today Val suggested I try a spot-test with some honey. I've used honey on beestings before, and it's worked - I thought, well, it can't hurt at this point.
And you know what? As soon as I rubbed honey on a particularly itchy spot, the itching stopped. Literally. Using a q-tip (okay, several q-tips; I didn't want to, you know, double-dip), I honeyed up several areas on my hands and arms, and finally, finally, enjoyed some relief.
The only bad thing about having honey on oneself is that -- well, one's got honey on oneself. I'd complained to Val and Paba that any time I brushed against something, I'd start itching all over again, and Paba - who's a cheeky one - said, "Hey! Now every time you brush against something, you'll just stick to it!" Thanks. So I'd remember which spots I'd honeyed, I put little squares of paper towels over them. Val said I looked a bit like C-3PO, with my arms sticking out at my sides. I obliged her with some robot noises.
I cautiously sat down to read for a while -- and discovered that my honeyed wrists had suddenly become the point of attraction for the household fly population. Sigh. Finally I washed the honey off, and resigned myself to being itchy. But, although I'd scrubbed my arms and hands with a washcloth, none of the (previously) honeyed areas itched again for five or six hours. Heeey! I'll definitely take that!
I'm going to have Val get me some benadryl when she goes into town tomorrow, if only because it's a bit easier to use that and still, you know, wear sweaters, than it is to use honey. In the meantime, I am under strict orders to avoid all tomatoes for the next two weeks, to see if my itchiness abates. I don't think I'll have trouble complying with that.