The title is a sideways allusion to a Demetri Martin joke about the most intelligent thing said that was prefaced by the word, "dude." Some examples include, "Dude, those are isotopes," and "Dude, we removed your kidney. You're gonna be fine." The latter, strangely, does not sound intelligent so much as terrifying.
The context is that I went to the doctor about my crazy skin rash today and he said it's probably erythemia multiforme, an allergic reaction to my beloved fungus. Sounds pretty cool, said I. Here, however, I feel that it is necessary to quote Chesterton: "...A moment's thought will show that if a disease is beautiful, it is generally someone else's disease. A blind man may be picturesque; but it requires two eyes to see the picture." Anyway, because my disease sounded interesting, I came home and googled it.
GUESS WHAT! If I start getting lesions in my mouth, feel feverish, have joint pain, or get red eyes, I could potentially die from this rash. Holy jalapenos! That's still pretty cool. And you can bet that I felt warmer just at the thought and started poking at that canker sore on the inside of my mouth with an inkling of dread... The major form of erythemia multiforme is called Steven Johnson Syndrome and it's a severe allergic reaction to medication that causes the skin to become necrotized (to decay, for the non-medical) and fall off. If I weren't mildly freaked out by the thought, I'd be fascinated to experience it.
I'm rather comforted by the thought that it's probably not an allergic reaction to medication because Lamisil does not fall under the causative agents category, and the expired ibuprofen I accidentally took last week was taken because of the flu-like symptoms, not before them. Sooo... I probably won't die. But this is the closest brush with death that I've ever had, medically speaking. Let's not talk about driving because that's a whole 'nother story.
Unfortunately, I am taking prednisone, antihistamines, and then Lamisil on the fungus. That is way too much medication for one person. I will never be old. That's all.
Post-Note Aside: The most entertaining thing about all of this, to me, is that as I was doing my personal rash research in a desperate attempt to avoid all things doctor-like, I read something that mentioned "the dreaded Steven Johnson Syndrome." It sounded so horrifying when put in those terms that I heaved a mental sigh of relief (having no idea what it actually was) when Dr. Conley said some random Latin gibberish. Oh, irony, you make a great friend and a worse enemy as Oedipus found out to his dismay.