The Universe has a sense of justice. Truly.
I'm frenemies with my skin. Last week I discovered a mysterious row of bumps on my left shoulder. Could have been poison ivy or reaction to detergent. My over-active imagination got the best of me, and I started googling symptoms. And pictures (exceptionally bad idea.) Pretty soon I had self-diagnosed myself with scabies, contact dermatitis or possibly leprosy. (I know, you're thinking: HYSTERICAL. Also: NEUROTIC.) Sometimes I have Monk-attacks, but I do my best to fight the OCD.
A few days later I got to the doctor - a stoic, middle aged Asian man who's been my doc since I was a teenager. He took a look at my shoulder and said "shingles." Turns out shingles are adult chicken pox - apparently once you get chicken pox, the virus sticks around in your body, rearing it's fugly head around particularly stressful times.
And you know what they give you for that? Yeah. Valtrex.
I thought to myself, is this because I make herpes jokes all the time?