Day 553 and Itchy

Pollution in the air, chlorine in the tap water, and overflowing filters on struggling air conditioners have left me an itchy mess. Not all parts of European have clean air or water as it turns out. I’m on the Ionian Sea and let’s just say the history of close economies and socialist strong men have left a legacy of infrastructure underinvestment.

My eyes look like I’m high as a kite. I’ve got angry raised welts across my arms. I have a lymph node that got backed up and is now the size of a marble under one armpit. A few of the hives have struggled to heal over and now require antibiotics. I love needing a course of Doxycycline on the road because a sore couldn’t fight off some exotic invader. No wonder they put enough chlorine in the water to scent an entire Olympic size pool. It’s clearly not enough.

Travel has always been a challenge when you are disabled. The indignity of finding yourself with seeping weeping yellow teardrops isn’t very relaxing. My travel pharmacy is working overtime as I carefully mix doses of Benadryl, Hydroxyzine, and Cortisone creams. And my travel cosmetics simply cannot fix the deep sunken blue eye bags that have developed from rubbing in antihistamines and spritzing in eye drops.

I really hope that no one at customs decides to get too curious about why I look so utterly fucked. I’m not entirely sure “I’m sensitive to pollution” is that believable to someone for whom this level of irritants is normal.

In less than a month I’ll be moving into the homestead in Montana. I’m dreaming of the clean air and sparkling rivers. I hope I can stay out for sometime. If I never have to leave “the last best place” on earth I’ll be happy.

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