I think it was a spider, man

I got bitten by something - I think it was a spider. I have a couple of those bites. The last one I got was a bit serious, almost as if the spider was saying, "Pay attention to me, dammit!"

I'm paying attention, now.

I don't know where my new pet lives, where he hangs out, what he eats (other than my hands and feet), or if I accidently squished him at some point. Since we are not friends, despite our apparent cohabitation, I hope I killed him. And I am not sorry if I did.

Harley is Mama's Teeny-Weeny Little Guy and he is the only teen-weeny little pet welcome in this situation we call a house. So the spider has to pack his bags, man. He gotta go because Harley called dibs years ago.

So I was bitten, felt the swelling, washed my hands and applied peroxide. It seemed fine.

I went to work the next day and things seemed fine until about 2:30 - 3:00pm. Then my hand started to ache and I couldn't bend my finger without feeling some pain. Then I started to see red lines creep up my hands.

Well, I'm not stunned as a mitt.

When I was younger, I lived in a rough neck of the woods. We used to be 'rampsing' around all the time. Rampsing, for those of you not in-the-know with Newfanese, means running and jumping and generally playing, like kids do. It's an all-encompassing word.

It would be nothing for one of us to get splinters (i.e., slivers of wood) in some body part, or have a nail pierce our skin or other body part (I once, or twice, had a nail driven into my foot), among other things.

And our parents / grandparents would get out the bread poultices to draw out the infection and if it was really bad, off to the doctor we would go for antibiotics and the requisite tetanus shot. I believe I had a splinter in my foot once and my mother held me while my grandmother tried to take it out with tweezers (or maybe knitting needles or pliers or coat hangers or wrenches or something). Suffice to say (It suffices to say/suffice it to say - say what you want, I don't care as they are all correct :P), when you are young and ticklish, that is torture. I hate tickling and consider it assault if you do so. Just try it and I will punch you in the face :) .

Anyway, those red streaks are a sign that something is infecting your body BADLY and you need to get to a doctor ASAP. It's a burning sensation and your skin is tender to the point where it feels scalded right where you can see the lines. Those lines race toward your heart, and this infection can be fatal.

Panic Situation.

I'm in the middle of teaching my last class of the day and trying not to be weirder than I usually am, so as soon as the bell rings and they are out the door, I race downstairs to get a second opinion, and ended up getting about ten more opinions from the family, so I headed to the hospital.

It didn't take long to get fixed up with meds and home I went. It was pretty painful yesterday but that was nothing compared to last night, which the doctor said would happen.

Time was passing so slowly. At 7:30, I thought it must be about 11 so I would go to bed. At 8, I thought the same thing. The night dragged on. I can't go to bed too early or I'll wake up and be awake for the rest of the night. I waited until 11pm and then bundled Harley off to the bunk where I was so glad to go to bed I just about cried.

At 2am I woke up and my arm was aching and on fire. I couldn't take any more meds legally and I'm afraid to take extra stuff (ibuprofen, people!) because I don't want to be the person who dies of an accidental overdose, which would be just my luck. That would p!ss me off.

I fell back asleep and felt this Tasmanian Devil-like thing start moving by my leg and whip up from the blankets, squealing and barking. Harley was mad. I don't know why he was mad but he scared me. He wouldn't go back to sleep. I have night terrors and sometimes I think he sees bad things that I can't see. I was afraid but in such a state that I couldn't focus. This was at 4am.

He kept walking all around me and sitting on me and barking in my face. That scared me even more because then I was worried that I was dying and he knew it. So I struggled to stay awake for awhile.

The pain in my hand and arm was so much that when I lifted it, it felt like someone had been sitting on it for hours. I couldn't even touch it with a sheet.

I got up, and looked up some stuff about sepsis and then laid back down. I didn't know how much time I would have to get myself out of the house if I was really bad off.

I didn't know how fast I would die if 'poison' reached my heart or brain, and if I would have time to call an ambulance and get out to the park on my own for them to find me. But I lived, and so far all is well.

I figured if I was lucid enough to do all this reasoning in my head, then I was probably ok, and if I was really finding myself a bit immobile, then I would go call an ambulance.

Once, I had shellfish food poisoning so bad that I could barely move and didn't call an ambulance because (1) I could barely move, (2) I didn't know how I would be able to get myself dressed, and (3) I had no way to let them into the house and I lived in a basement suite.

I don't really trust myself on the ambulance thinking anymore, considering I could have died in that situation.

In this situation, I would have had to call them, get myself dressed, put Harley in a safe situation, get myself dressed and up the stairs, out the back door, across the neighbours' fields and through the park and hope that the ambulance would come to the park, since the road construction still is happening and the road is still a mess.

That's a lot of work. But I've been doing that for awhile, and as I said before, I feel like Batman.

Batman will beat the spider, man.

PD: aSS :) Chapter 8

PD: aSS: Chapter 8 “Put ‘er on pause for a spell, will ya?”

Last week, everything smelled like dog crap. I thought I was getting the flu.

This week, I am too tired to rest and my throat and ears hurt. I thought I was getting a cold.

Something is wrong, I figure...

Now, I don’t know about everyone, but I do know that when I get sick, I want to be home laying on my mom’s couch while she makes me soup and tells me what to do for a little while. Then I can nap and relinquish all life’s details into more capable hands while I rest. I also revert back to my young self when I am sick, so much so that even my strong Newfie h-accent returns. In fact, I gets so Newfie that sometimes even me own mudder can’t figger out fer the life of ‘er what is I is trying to say. I gets like dat sometimes. When I am sick, I am the worst I h-ever been.

So, since last week I been havin’ some troubles with the ‘ealth, you might say. H-at first, I tot I was just catchin’ de cold or fightin’ off some h-August / fall bug. I rested (‘til I tot to my h-own self dat h-I was in de coma) in the ‘opes of gettin’ rid of de little bug that decided to ‘itch de ride h-on my h-immune system. ‘Frig de bugs,’ I figgers, ‘I got no room for de freeloaders’. So h-into the coma I went.

Just like de Sleepin’ Be-auty, I wakes up and sure shot, de bugs is still on board.

So, h-off to de ‘ospital I goes in the ‘opes of gettin’ ‘er all cleared up right quick.

The doctor says to me, he says, “Missus, why in the name of all dat is good and ‘oly did you wait so long to come to get some of de medicine? You gots what we in de medical profession calls the h-ear h-infection! H-in bot’ h-of de h-ears, too!”

“Fine h-enough,” I says to he, “t’row on the medicine! I gots the sore t’roat, too, if it makes any difference to ye.”

85 pounds of pills later, h-off I goes to the ‘ouse to catch up on de lack of de coma.

H-a day later, h-I is still h-awake.

‘Dis h-is da pretty shabby circumstances,’ I t’inks to meself, ‘What is h-I to do now?’

So radder than ‘ead on down to de fine h’establishment known in dese parts as d’ ‘ospital, I gets de bright h-idea of calling de ‘ealth Link of H-Alberta!! I got ‘er knocked, I figgers.

So the missus on de phone bawls me out and says to me, she says, “Listen Missy, if you gots de problem longer dan four days den you knows it’s not the cold or the flu. It’s h-alright to go to d’ ‘ospital den, b’y, you know! My dear, you gots to straighten h-out and take better care of yourself.”

Well, dis is h-as close h-as h-I got to me mudder telling me h-off in de long while which makes me kind of ‘omesick. H-I decides right den and dere dat h-I is calling me mudder as soon as dis woman is finished tearing a strip off of de me for bein’ stunned.

“Well, b’y,” I says to the Nurse Missus, “h-I never had de h-ear h-infection before dis, ya know. How’s I gunna know what I is at in dat regards, now? C’mon, b’y.”

“Well,” says she to me, “you sounds like you’s gots the bad strep t’roat on the go dere but since you gots medicine h-already, you might as well give ‘er a shot before you ‘eads back to de ‘ospital so dat at least you knows if the drugs is gunna kick in. Drink some warm tea and try to t’row on d’ ‘umidifier!”

‘Fair h-enough,’ I t’inks to meself.

“T’anks a lot now, Missus!” I says to the Nurse Missus. And ‘angs up the phone. Picks ‘er h-up and calls de ole mudder. H-it’s t’ree h-AM in H-Alberta so h-it’s six t’irty h-on da rock.

Groggy and sounding like the wild tom cat, mudder says, “Hello?!”

“Mom! Whaddyat!” I says to me mudder.

“Nutting!” me mudder says to me, “What are you at?”

“I got de sore h-ears and de sore t’roat, mudder,” I says to she.

“Yes, b’y,” she says to me, “You go to d’ ‘ospital or wha’?”

So I tells ‘er de ‘ole yarn about de ways of the strep t’roat suspection.

She tells me to drink de tea and take de h-antibiotics. Good chance me mudder knows what she is at, I figgers. Mudders knows h-everything.

“T’anks, now, mudder!” I says and ‘angs up the phone.

What the God is I gunna do now? H-I is not sleepy, h-I got a t’ousand books but h-I don’t feel like reading. H-I got a anudder t’ousand crafts started but h-I is not feeling very crafty so h-I is at de loss now.

No chance on going to work now - ‘aven’t slept in two days, can’t stand up straight for falling h-over h-off de balance.

Pretty shabby circumstances, h-I figgers.

So, h-I gots the cup of de ‘oney lemon tea h-on the go. It’s almost daylight dere soon, I t’ink. H-if h-I was ‘ome, h-I could be getting ready to go on da water with de b’yes or in the woods with da crowd, I s’pose. But h-I h-isn’t ‘home a-tall, a-tall. H-and h-I s’pose if you gots de touch of the bad t’roat you shouldn’t be h-out frigging h-around h-anyway.

May as well take ‘er easy for a spell, as me grandfadder would have said. Nan would tell me to pack up good and warm if I called her. May as well wait for her Rosary to be done. Don’t want to get bawled out by the Grandmudder on de Rosary circuit.

I’ll just drink my tea and pause for a spell, I guess...

****

I gave up writing about this experience not long after this... I was just too busy. I went back to teaching in October, as being a student just wasn't financially feasible for me.

The experience was fun, and it was eye-opening, and it was HOT. It was nice to be nameless and faceless for awhile - this I mostly felt when I was waiting for the bus in the midst of the other hundred(s) of people doing the same.

This illness turned out to be strep throat and I was sick for almost month. Fun times. I found out I was really sick because I woke up one night and in my attempt to go to the bathroom, I stood up, kind of fell sideways and grabbed for my bookshelf. I kind of remember doing it, but not.

The bookshelf crashed to the floor in front of me. I picked my way over it, and completely naked, opened my bedroom door and walked across the hallway to the bathroom. This wouldn't be a problem except I lived with a friend and she had boarders.

One of those boarders had heard the bookcase crash down and had run upstairs to see if I was ok. No doubt he got an eyeful.

I didn't see him, so off I went to the bathroom, completely out of my mind, presumably in a feverish state. I came out of the bathroom, turned on my light, saw the mess, put on my robe, and walked out to the kitchen to get water. Immediately, the boarder asked me if I was ok. I said yes I was, and asked him if he was ok. He then asked if I was on drugs. I said no, of course not, but I asked if someone was running around the house because someone tore down my bookshelf. He asked me some other stuff but I told him I was tired and had to go to bed.

I then went back to bed. He must have thought I was out of my mind.

I didn't really know what was wrong. I went to the doctor, though, and the doctor thought I must have been crazy because my throat and ears were bad.But I hadn't been sick like that before so I didn't know. And I think when you are sick, and you are trying to sleep and heal, you might not know how sick you really are.

Anyway, I did really well with the Pipefitting Situation. I got on A on that practicum and would have done well in school. It's all good. I can't imagine working out there in the winter.

:)