I just sent an unhinged, caps-lock WhatsApp tirade to my ex accusing him of giving me a raging STI on our beach trip, only for him to send back a clean test and remind me his dog had poison oak that we literally cuddled naked. How do I survive this level of mortification, and what do I put on my crotch?!

Deep breath: the only thing burning hotter than your dignity right now is your groin, but you will survive both. Urushiol—the vicious oil in poison oak—doesn't care about relationship history, and dogs are essentially walking, furry sponges for it. If you snuggle a contaminated pup in the buff, delicate skin absorbs that plant oil like a dry sponge. The sheer panic makes total sense: a furious, blistery rash popping up down there on vacation looks and feels horrifyingly like an emergency STI. First, triage your body. Wash everything you wore in hot water. For down below, skip harsh soaps. Cool compresses will be your best friend. Head to a pharmacy or walk-in clinic—they see poison oak in weird places all summer long, and they can set you up with safe topical relief or an antihistamine without judging you. Then, send your ex a clean-up text to clear the air: "Turns out your dog is a biohazard. I'm sorry for spiraling on you, and I owe you a massive apology." Eat a tiny slice of humble pie, slather on the soothing cream, and remember: at least your labs are clear.