I have hives.
I’ve had them since the night of the 26th.
They itch. Like Crazy.
At first, I could take Benadryl and they’d go away for a few hours. But now, my hives just laugh at my sad little useless Benadryl pill.
Anyway. We arrived in Siem Reap yesterday afternoon, via a “private van” – because we gave up on buses and the flights were all booked. Today we went to a “Bird Sanctuary”…
Here’s a little SAT analogy for you:
Luxury: Bus as Sanctuary: ______?
Answer: Getting Thwacked With Sticks.
Sorry, that probably made no sense to you. Let me explain…
In order to get to the bird sanctuary, we had to take a boat. I asked our guide yesterday, “How big is the boat?” “Big” he said “With a roof and chairs. Life jackets. No problem.”
He left out the part where we have to get off that boat and then get on a smaller one – narrower and slightly longer than a rowboat, but with a motor – because the reeds in the watery bird sanctuary are so thick the bigger boat won’t fit. Also, that even in the smaller boat, the reeds – which are really more like the kinds of sticks that they used in the olden days to make into switches for beating people – reach into the boat and thwack at our heads and arms as we motor our way through them.
It was like the tunnel of love at a carnival, only longer and with thwacking. So like a tunnel of hate.
And at the end of the tunnel? An open area, and a tree with a Cambodian flag at the top.
“You will need to get in a smaller boat to go to the tree. Then you climb up and see birds.”
Um, excuse me?
“Are you joking?”
“Not joking. You can see many birds from up there.”
They SO did not put that part in the brochure. I’m afraid of falling in the water and I’m even more afraid of heights. So guess what I did not do? Funny part is, no one in the family wanted to get in that smaller boat and climb that tree. (There was some sort of platform at the top, and a ladder or some such thing. But basically, it’s Robinson Crusoe time.) So we told our guide, “We don’t want to climb the tree.” He was dumbfounded. And perplexed. Apparently we are the first people to say no. “Then we have to go back” he says. “okay!” We replied.
And back through the tunnel of hate we went.
We did see some cool birds. But it was so not worth it. And actually, the floating village we saw whilst still in the “big” boat (I put big in quotes because it was small – only big if you compare it to the ridiculously smaller boats that came after. It’s like we were in some kind of Russian doll world)… the floating village was very cool. I would have been perfectly happy just to take a boat to see that and be done with it.
Meanwhile, the itching kept coming back. It was mostly under control during the Thwackathon, but by dinner time, it was getting pretty bad. And after dinner it got even worse. I have spots every freaking where. And they itch SO BAD. I finally broke down crying and asked Husband to please help me get a doctor. He went to the front desk and they called a doctor and he came to our room 15 minutes later.
His solution was to give me a shot. Where the sun don’t shine. I have never had a shot there. I seriously thought he had to be kidding. It’s been that kind of day. So he gave me the shot and said my hives would go away “very quickly”. HA. And double HA.
It’s been over an hour and they are still here. In fact right now my hands itch so bad I keep scratching even though I know I shouldn’t. It’s like a compulsion. Also my right ankle itches. And my left shin. ACK. Hate this so much.
The doctor wants a sample. Of poo. Again, with the “he must be joking”. I swear this experience is just taking every shred of dignity away from me. He wants the sample because he thinks it could be a parasite. Isn’t that awesome? What a great souvenir that would be.
I’m kind of ready to go home now.
Tomorrow, God willing and if I am not a weeping mass of hives and itch, we are going to Angkor Wat to tour temples. It should be a really cool day. If only my body will cooperate. With my luck, I’ll probably step on a snake. Or a landmine.