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Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Fungus the bogey lady

I have discovered over the years that as I don't deal with stress ( as in I don't acknowledge it and therefore it doesn't exist, get over it you wimp) my body does. So I don't find housemoving stressful, tiring maybe, but not stressful but guess what, my body does. So a month in to our happy home I am pleased to say that whilst I no longer have the Finger of Doom which was my previous stress barometer I am less pleased to say that I have developed fungal signposts instead. So starting form the neck down. First there is the patch of eczema on my neck that just wont go away and itches like mad. It glares red and flares up when I have to go to a swanky do. Then moving south, (Dad and other gentleman readers you may want to look away at this point,) I have thrush. Thrush should is a pretty little bird that hops merrily round the garden pulling up worms. Who thought that it would be a good idea to name your madly itching lady garden, and if you a really lucky discharge to boot, after a bleedin' bird. Where is the similarity? And it was with mine own madly truly itching lady garden that I took myself off to Boots ( one far away from home ) whereby I was given the 10th degree by the male pharmacist on my condition. I could have quite gladly grabbed his leg like a humping dog to relieve the itchiness but instead stood there trying not to be embarrassed about my condition whilst I collected my bumper pack of Canesten. Whilst the relief is almost instantaneous to be quite honest the chalky otuput I could well do with out. There is enough going on down there to mark out a game of hop scotch.
Moving further south from vadge to foot I have contracted a verruca. I blast it with everything going, am operating strict towel allocations etc and it is getting bigger. I think it is doing it to spite me. GO AWAY! It's like the icing on the bleedin' cake or foot in this instance. I have never ever had a verruca in my puff. I am giving it one more month and then going against the grain I will have to haul my ass to the Dr. Diagnosis; stress. Duh!

6 comments:

  1. Form an orderly queue gentlemen xxx

    ps at least you don't have nits

    pps or grey pubic hair

    Don't mention it, I'm just a wee ray of sunshine xx

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  2. PMSL. As one who has just denitted, after doing the girls' hair and topiaried the greying lady garden, I empathise. It reminds me of the time I developed piles from stress. I dragged my poor arse off to the doctor only to find there was a locum sitting in for my female doctor. A young, hunky, rather gorgeous locum, before whom I had to reveal my newly revirgined butt (no sex for at least eight months)and it's bluey black haemorroidal courgettes. Yeah, least you don't have that problem!

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  3. no bald patches yet then? that's usually next with stress so watch out.

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  4. But you're still laughing....so chin up (any hairs there? oh sorry!!) so all is not lost...try a stiff G+T, a bath and just take it easy.

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  5. Aw Ladies thanks for the sympathetic words of kindness ( Ha ha )piles - ew never had those you have my full sympathy. As for balding i haave had quite a lot of hair loss over last 2 years and am now in a period of regrowth which means my hair looks constantly frizzy, nice. Glass of red after a run does the trick for me just means I have to pluck my hairy chin another day.

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  6. Ohhh dear. I have a really horrible red lumpy rash that comes up on my neck if I'm hot or embarrassed or stressed. I was MORTIFIED at the Figleaves shoot when the make up lady had to cover it up with green goo and then powder it vigorously.

    I hate the 'aftermath' of Canesten too. yoghurt pants, anyone?

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