Woo hoo!

Ding dong, the itch is dead!

Which old itch?

The Spandex itch!

Ding dong the Spandex itch is dead!

Last night, after I discovered two new lesions, Bernie snarled that I needed to go back to the doctor AGAIN and deal with this new malady.

I "Yeah, yeah, yeah'd" him, but in the morning, finding yet another stripe of blisters, got a quickie appointment.

"Your body has focused on this allergy and gone ballistic," she said to me. "It's attacking everything it thinks might be an allergen. It's out of control."

"Crap," I said,  knowledgeably to her.

"Yes," she replied, "and we are going to shut it down now. I'll give you a shot that will stop it in its tracks, and a course of steroids that will convince it to knock this off."

"Let's do it," I replied, not letting my body hear that it was falling down on the job.

One injection, a dose of prednisone, and nine hours later, there is no itch, and the lesions have dried up.

The one side affect of the drugs is that they give one ... too much energy. So it's bedtime, and I'm still wanting to jump around and skip to the tune of 

"Ding dong, the itch is dead ..."