I remember everything about that morning—or as I call it in my mind, in highly scientific terms, the Day That the Shit Totally Hit the Fan. I was getting ready to go to the gym. Usually this was a cause for dread, but that day it was an exciting opportunity to wear the new shorts that had just arrived in the mail. Nothing like shiny new workout gear to get you out and about. I put them on and was about to head out the door when I noticed an intense burning sensation on my thighs. They had become covered, seemingly in seconds, in large, angry hives. I pulled off the new clothes—clearly, something must have gotten on them!—and ran for the shower. Eventually the hives calmed down. Allergic reaction, I assumed, as I returned the shorts to the store in record time. And, I thought, that’s that.