Number Four Has Hygienic Issues

I have briefly touched on Number Four's lack of basic hygienic practices, in that she never washed her Circus Pants. But her battle against general cleanliness did not end there. There was a time when Number Four was struck ill. Now, Number Four had some interesting notions toward medications, but we will approach that nugget in a minute. For now, suffice it to say that she did not regularly take any medication for her illness. She eventually took enough of it to get rid of whatever was making her sick, or perhaps it abandoned her of its own volition, preferring suicide over living in such a host. But that's neither here nor there. My point of contention is that after this rather lengthy illness which involved a nasty cough and copious amounts of phlegm, Number Four did not wash her sheets that she had been sick all over. She didn't even change the pillowcase! Please note that I compulsively wash my sheets once a month. In fact, I need to wash them now, but I don't have enough quarters to do that and it is squigging me out something awful. And thinking about this is certainly not helping.

Another thing that was more evident than any of us were comfortable with (particularly Pamala) was the fact that Number Four had foot fungus. Her feet were covered in gross, black swollen blotches that she scratched red and raw. They were a testament to her summer in Costa Rica. She had various different medications for it, but she seemed to have some difficulty in actually taking them. When I was sick of hearing her whine about her feet itching (and no one can whine quite like Number Four), I told her to go put on the anti-itch cream her doctor had given her. (As yet another side note, of all the things that bother me, and there are many, the one thing that bothers me the most is when people complain about a problem they have when there is a readily available solution. "Ow, I have a headache." "Here, take an Excedrin." "I don't want to..." "Well then shut the fuck up about your headache.") She didn't want to use the medication because her friend (not even her mother/father/brother/cousin) was a Scientologist, and she told Number Four all about how taking medication is bad and wrong. I could barely contain myself. I believe I may have yelled something along the lines of "What kind of bullshit is this? You aren't even a Scientologist yourself, you're Jewish! Just take the fucking pills and you will get better!" And wouldn't you know it, she took them every day after that, because she has no actual personality or opinions of her own, she simply adopted the opinions of those around her. I think this was the root of our disdain for her. Yes, so she took the pills and applied her cream more regularly, not that it really made much of a difference in her disgusting habits with her feet. She would sit on the couch and scratch and pick at them, or rub them on the couch compulsively. And poor Pamala had to try to fall asleep every single night to the sound of Number Four raking away and her fungus-infested feet.