Apr 27 2010

The “Commando” Cure

“I can’t believe you want to blog about my rash.”

“I’m not going to blog about your rash, I’m going to blog about how you’re treating it and the effect that treatment is having on me.”

“Oh, I suppose that’s okay then.”

Dr. Darling has a mysterious rash.

It started just after we got back from London, and initially we thought it might be a delayed reaction to the tingly man soap we accidently bought while we were there, especially since it seemed to flair up really bad right after a shower. So the Swede stopped using the soap, but after several days, the rash was no better.

Because the itchiness seemed to be worse at night, we identified the next possible culprit as the feather down duvets on our bed. Dr. Darling‘s mother is severely allergic to down, so it wasn’t unreasonable to think she could have passed it on to one of her kids … even though we’ve had the duvets for several years.

So we switched out the Swede’s down duvet to a synthetic one with mixed results. The night-time itching stopped almost immediately, but the rash remained. Not long after this we noticed that it seemed to be confined to places where skin met elastic … like the waistband of a pair of undies, for instance.

This could only mean one thing … Dr. Darling was going to have to “go commando” to determine if the elastic was indeed the cause. And pretty much around-the-clock, an option made easier by the fact that the already over-educated Swede is taking a pair of distance courses while job-hunting and spends a lot of time in The Penthouse Nordic (where underwear has always been optional).

So far, it seems to be helping. The rash is definitely receding (helped along with a mild cortisone cream), but the commando status is driving me to distraction. I cannot stop thinking about it, commenting on it, acting on it…especially since it means that Dr. Darling, who has always slept in just a pair of underpants, is now crawling into the sack naked every night.

The ever-pragmatic Swede does not see why this is a big deal to me. After all, a pair of undies doesn’t cover up all that much to begin with…so dropping the drawers isn’t that much of a stretch…right? WRONG! It’s completely different!

I’m sure part of it has to do with the fact that I cannot sleep naked. Even on those frustratingly rare occasions when I do find myself in bed in-the-buff, I nearly always have to get up and put on at least a t-shirt in order to be able to sleep through the night. So in addition to being somewhat distracted by Dr. Darling‘s night-time nudidity .. I’m kind of envious of it, too.

I was also quite impressed with the relative nonchalance toward commando-ness, until this little exchange:

Me: I can’t believe how well you’re handling the no-underwear thing. It would be driving me nuts.

Dr. Darling: Well it’s much easier to tolerate when you’re not wearing a borrowed rain suit during a working dinner with colleagues because you fell off the company yacht.

Me: Shut up.

Feed my ego!

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