Look alive, people: this post is going to contain too much information. In fact, it’s going to be the next evolution of too much information. It’s Too Much Information 2: Electric Boogaloo. If you were terribly clever, it would be considered Two Much Information. Whatever you want to call it, you’ve been warned: there is too much information in the words below. Take cover!

On Saturday night, I experienced an exciting new chapter in personal discomfort. It was utterly unbelievable, and something I had never imagined was possible – but there I was, doubled over with symptoms and frantically Googling for answers in a desperate attempt to keep my hands occupied.

I was having an allergy attack. I get them from time to time, usually because I’ve been neglecting my daily antihistamine: I’m allergic to a whole lot of things (dust, cats, grass, pollen, Ed) so I dose myself year-round to keep my ducts in check. As with all things though, sometimes I get a little cocky and I think “nahhh, I’m fine – I don’t need to take my meds!” and then Bad Things happen just to remind me who’s in charge (hint: it’s not me).

Most of the time the Bad Things are a nasty case of mouth itchiness (officially known as an Oral Allergy Syndrome), and sometimes tattoo hives. The tattoo hives are the worst, because I want nothing more to lay into my skin with a scrubbing brush until I am satisfied and all the black ink bumps go away, but that is just not a good idea so I settle for slapping my tattoos as hard as I can. It hurts, doesn’t really help, and I look mighty stupid while doing it. I also pop an immediate extra-strength Reactin, and hope it kicks in quickly (which it usually does). Then the air stops being itchy and my hives go away and I can stop swearing as I promise to never, ever forget my meds ever again. It seems like a relatively minor inconvenience, but it’s really annoying and second only to forgetting my brain pills in terms of bad reactions (no matter how itchy I get, it’s still better than brain zaps and non-stop vertigo).

Then Saturday happened.

It started out with itchy palms, which spread to the soles of my feet. These are notoriously difficult areas to scratch, and I was jittery with a need for relief – even more so when the itch began to spread down my arms and legs, causing my shins to get all bloody where I scratched too hard. I took a pill in an attempt to quell the discomfort, but it wasn’t helping .. and then things got a whole lot worse.

Did you know that you can have an allergy attack inside your vagina?

I didn’t. But I do now. AND I NEVER WANT TO EXPERIENCE IT EVER AGAIN.

The itchiness I was feeling all over my body took root (no pun intended) in my most private of delicate flower gardens, and amplified itself a thousand fold. It felt like someone had shoved a handful of steel wool into my nethers; steel wool that was covered in several other kinds of wool like rabbit and lamb and lion. It was intensely terrible and I quickly learned that it is not possible or ladylike to properly scratch an all-encompassing vaginal itch (not to mention that properly relieving myself of an itch this bad would have caused some serious damage to quivering velvet, and I did not sign up for wearing bandaids all up in my tinkle flower). I had to sit on my hands to keep my fingers from wandering down south and trying to fix all that ailed me, and screamed for Ed to make haste with the last weapon in my arsenal: an extra-strength Benedryl from my nightstand. Even that didn’t really help, but I knew it would make me fall asleep before I could hurt myself with my newly grown nails (even if I would have totally done so if I thought it would stop the itch).

I eventually passed out while twitching helplessly, and things were fine when I woke up. This was by far the worst allergy attack I’ve ever had, and I never want it to happen again: I’ve been OD’ing on Reactin since Sunday morning, and with every twinge or tickle I panic thinking that The Itch is coming back. It was horrible. My vagina is a big stupid jerk.

I have never, ever experienced an itch like that. If I never experience it again, it will be too soon. You win this round, vagina .. but I will have the last laugh when I render you helpless with various items I have coming in mail.

SO. ITCHY.