If by chance, you ever tell somebody that touching X makes you itch, do not -- I repeat: do not -- let them say, "Well, let's quantify that" and then stick little pieces of tape smeared with that substance all over your back that you have to leave there for four days. Oh, and you can't get it wet, so no showers. And you can't scratch at it, either. Itchy itchy itch. Aaaarg. Every now and then I can forget it for fifteen minutes, and then it reminds me: "I'm itchy!"
On Thursday, I get it removed, and the nurse will stick a hundred needles in my arms to show that I'm allergic to cats and dust. Because this is apparently news to somebody out there. On the other hand, it means I can start getting allergy shots and stop relying on an inhaler to help me breathe freely, which is a good thing, indeed.
