I thought I was immune to poison ivy.   So many times when I was growing up my sister and I were in the same places and she would develop horrible poison ivy and I had none.   So when I started to do yard work a few weeks ago and was pulling ivy, it never occurred to me that some of the ivy might be of the poison variety.   I did wash my hands carefully when I came indoors but did not use the brown soap that my parents had always instructed us to use if we suspected we had come in contact with poison ivy and did not scrub under my rings.   I noticed a few scratches on my wrist and shin but I thought that they were likely from working near the rose bushes.

Two days later the wretched rash appeared and I learned the truth of “Leaves of three, let them be.”   As the rash spread and spread I realized the futility of over the counter treatments and sought help at the nearby walk-in clinic.   The doctor took one look at me and said “I will give you everything I can.”   A shot, steroid pills (dashing my Olympic dreams) and expensive ointments, and three weeks later the rash is finally fading.   I’m not sure the treatments hastened my recovery or if the rash simply had to run its course.  As I was recuperating I read the latest issue of Women’s Day magazine which ironically included an article on how to recognize poison ivy.  With it as a guide I searched my yard and am posting these pictures as a public service announcement.

We researched various means  of killing the poison ivy plants and learned that the Spanish Angora goat loves to eat poison ivy, but housing one did not seem feasible in our suburban neighborhood, certainly not until we had fixed the broken gate on our fenced back yard.   We sprayed but it seemed to have no effect.   Then I sprayed the plants with salt water and the leaves immediately started to shrivel up.   It was like watching the wicked witch of my yard being doused with a pail of water.   I wish the rash could have been cured as quickly.