A couple of days ago, I woke up, got ready for work, looked down at my leg and thought--"Huh. I must have had an ant bite." (One of the glories of the desert is the fact that we don't have mosquitoes. That's right. NONE.)
Later that day, I thought, "Huh. That ant bite is really itching!" Then it turned into, "That hurts!" By the time I got home, tore off my suit and looked down at my calf, it was swollen, had a bright red patch about 6 inches by 3 inches, and did NOT feel good. DJ slathered on the cortisone cream and a huge piece of gauze.
Let me introduce our major predator in the desert. Her name is Latrodectus mactans--and she is a tricky little devil. She's a lady of the night (in the best possible sense) but has a zillion kids.
It's a black widow. She must have thought I was tasty. By the time I discovered what had happened, it was too late for anything besides cortisone and Advil (also Benadryl with the added benefit of sleeping soundly through the night!). It's much better now, but I think I'll take the mosquitoes from now on.
2 comments:
OUCH!! I have always been afraid of being bit by one of those nasty things... glad you're okay
Oh no! Those things scare me to death. That is horrible!
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