The Phantom Itch

You know, pregnancy does strange things to a person’s body. Those persons are usually women, but I’ve heard that pregnancy does strange things to men as well. Anyway, this is my strange thing: Ever since I had my kid, I have had a phantom itch. It’s “phantom” only because I don’t know what else to call an itch that starts on my right thigh and ends up behind my left knee, or my right shoulder, or the back of my neck.

I know. Doesn’t sound real. I’ve already mentioned it a few times and people generally look at me with their mouths open and I often hear that little sticking sound at the back of their throats like they are truly lost for words when I ask: “Have you ever had an itch that you have to chase?”

It’s just odd the way it shows up when I’m really concentrating on something. I’ll be convincing myself to fall asleep and there it is, and I chase it until it ends inside my ear where I can’t reach it with anything other than a toothpick. Not that I’ve ever used a toothpick in my ear, but I’ve definitely had notions toward that end. I was sitting at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert just the other night, and the Itch started. I was, however, too entranced by all the hair flipping and stage strutting to really give it much thought at the time. It’s rare that I can overlook the Itch like that, but I was really distracted at the time.

I actually Googled it: Phantom Itch. The first thing that comes up is this article about an amputee who had excruciating pain in his missing elbow. I was fascinated, because I’m just like that guy!

Except, I’m not missing anything like an elbow. It’s just that stupid Itch that runs away when I bend down to scratch it. But, still. See? He’s lost an elbow, and I’ve lost my itch. What the heck, huh? We could be the same person. Almost interchangeable.

Anyway, I was reading about this guy. “When he puts his good arm into a box lined with mirrors he seems to recognize his missing arm, and he can finally stretch the cramped elbow out. Within a month his brain reorganizes its damaged circuits, and the illusion of the arm and its pain vanish.”

There it was! A solution to my problem! It’s just damaged circuits in my brain telling me the Itch is on my thigh, when really it’s hovering just above the second rib on my left side. Now, all I needed was a box lined with mirrors that was large enough to fit my right leg (and maybe sometimes my left armpit). Only, I found out that mirror-lined boxes are not cheap, and also, shipping is a pain. So, I figured a compromise would work and considered using a big cardboard box lined with heavy-duty aluminum foil. You know, the kind you use when you really mean business?

Aluminum foil doesn’t exactly work like a mirror. They don’t tell you that on the box.

I was back to square one, but I have learned something. Sometimes, if I sit long enough and listen to the Itch, I can detect its actual, physical location and I may then expedite relief by scratching. I may end up scratching my left shoulder blade or my right eye, but at least the Itch has been heard and is soothed.

Moral of the story? Listen to your itch. Also, an inexplicable runaway itch could work better than the Pill in regard to birth control. I wouldn’t pose that theory to a classroom or anything, but it could work better.