Evan had his Kindergarten shots scheduled today, and as with everything else in life, it ended up being all about me. 

To my credit, I can't help it that I'm a complete and total medical mystery and marvel.  Doctors love cases like me.  This is how it went down:

Me:  Hi, I'm Katie.  (we shake hands)  We haven't seen you before, but don't you go to Orangewood, Dr. M? 

Dr. M: Yes!  Are you the photographer? 

(We chat a bit... about photography and backgrounds and his new baby.)

Me: Yeah, and I normally don't look like this, I'm having this horrible allergic reaction.

(At some point this random and VERY pride-centered statement enters all introductions to new people now.)

Dr. M: Let me see, (begins examining my arm...   is sucked in...   hooked...   can't get enough...   looks on all sides of my arm.) Are you sure this is allergic?  What have you been told, who have you seen?

Me:  No, I'm not at all sure.  I've only gone to a clinic twice and am finishing my second pack of Prednisone.... (this is when I go back to the beginning and tell him how all germs within a 50 mile radius smelled me out and pounced in early February.)

Dr. M: Hmm.  (And this is where I paraphrase because he spouted off a whole bunch of doctor stuff I don't understand:) Yeah, because this is scaly.  And this isn't what hives look like.  And did you even have any symptoms of a UTI?  And you say you had Strep?

Me:  No I did not have one symptom.  Not a-one.  And yes, Strep!

Dr. M: You need to go to a dermatologist.  I would.  This isn't going anywhere.  I don't think the Prednisone is doing a thing for you.  There's something called... (this is where I'm inept to repeat again...) Do you mind, could you give me three?  This stuff is good for me... I'm gonna go look in my books...

Me:  I would LOVE to wait.

Evan:  When am I getting shots?

Doctor M returns and scratches down a list on a prescription pad: Pleva, Pityriasis Lichenoides, Papular Acrodermatitis, Pityriasis Rosea, Parapsoriasis.

He also wrote down some dermatologists for me.  I was THRILLED.  Seriously.  Someone who cared about my rash as much as me... maybe more!  (It's also likely he was just demonstrating the fruits of the Spirit, and I do not care which, because either way the man was a total and complete God-send, because just tonight I realized there are, in fact, NEW bumps.)

Anyway, Evan took his shots like a man.  He was SO tough.  We had a pep-talk in the car, during which he poked himself with a Capri Sun straw repeatedly. For practice.  I told him it would hurt more like the "Owie Plants" (stinging nettles) in our yard and he was fine and dandy with that as he's practically immune to those suckers now.  He made it through two shots with not a tear, but come the third it- was- personal.  And four was two too many.  He was SO proud of himself, I thought his chest would pop walking out of there and he wears the Bandaids like battle wounds.

Tonight Shaun looked over the list Dr. M made.  "I'll look some of these up for you since you have work to do."

A half hour later I asked what he found.  His answer:  let's just wait and see what the doctor says.

Me:  So you didn't look?

Him:  I just think we should wait and see before we freak out.

Me:  Wait!  You did look.  And it's bad.  Am I dying?

Him:  Let's just wait and see.

Me:  Give me the list.

Him: Katie.

Me: The list!

Him: Okay...

Me:  (Type, type, type...)  Chronic.  Oh no, see, not all cases are... lifelong... oh no, not all cases...  LYMPHOMA!

Him: You just couldn't listen, could you.

(And that period's meant to be a period.  It wasn't a question.  It was a statement.)