Sign #2 of Spring on Cape Cod: My Husband's Annual Poison Ivy Attack

My husband gets poison ivy like it's his job. Right on schedule, every spring the evil weed seeks out Mark's skin, and I think lymph nodes too. He's one of those people who gets a tiny little spot that within hours morphs into a blistering, oozing patch of itchy hamburger. By day he stoically soldiers on, dutifully applying prescription ointments and popping his prednisone, not so much as touching a spot, much less scratching. It's torture for him. But by night in the vulnerability of sleep, the bed shakes as he rakes at his flesh. I feel so bad for him. This year's attack was less overwhelming in its reach, only showing up in a couple of spots. However, it made up for its sparseness with its appearance in the most unfortunate areas...poor guy!