Forty Signs of Rain by Kim Stanley Robinson

on having poison ivy:

Putting on clothes was like a kind of skin-deep electrocution.

It had only taken a few days of that to reduce him to a kind gibbering semi-hallucinatory state. Now, over a week later, it was worse. His eyes were sandy; things had auras around them; noises made him jump. It was like the dregs of a crystal-meth jag, he imagined, or the last hours of an acid trip. A sandpapered brain, spacy and raw, everything leaping in through the senses.

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