This is not the black widow that bit me. The spider that bit me is now spinning webs in the sky. Or wherever dead spiders end up. Unlike dogs, I have a strong suspicion that they do not all go to heaven. I killed her. I didn’t do it on purpose, but she’s dead. We had a miscommunication about the ownership of a sleeping bag, and it got ugly. First for her, when I rolled over and squished her, and later for me. Before she went, she made sure I wouldn’t enjoy my stay for long. In that last instant of spider life, she bit me. I wouldn’t know that any of this drama had taken place for a couple hours, of course. But I would definitely come to know it. I would come to know it so hard. (This is a long story, so I spared you dashboard readers. Click through to read the gory details) It had been a nice day. I was about a mile south of Junction, Texas, a one-night campground layover on my way to a Boy Scout backpacking trip through the mountains of west Texas. I was excited to see them, if only to prove to myself that such terrain existed in a state where the top of your driveway might be the highest point for miles. The night was clear and cool, the kind of night that makes you decide not to pitch your tent, so you can be closer to nature. So very close to nature. Black widow spiders are actually several species, all part of the genus Latrodectus. They are normally pretty timid. If you live in North America, they’re probably in a dark corner under your house right now, not bothering anyone. Comforting thought, eh? They really don’t want to bite you, though. But they will, if they are cornered, or smooshed. Males are small and brown (you can see a couple in my photo above), and don’t pack much punch. But the females, oof. They are bulbous and black, and each wears a brand in the shape of a crimson hourglass on their belly, a dressing of toxic couture to mask the hurt inside. The most infamous spider on Earth. About an hour after I fell asleep that night, I woke up with a start. My right arm was numb. No biggie, that happens all the time. I rolled over and waited for blood to flow back into my arm, washing away those prickly pins and needles with a cool wave of feeling. But it didn’t go away. And why could I still move my hand? I went for a walk to shake out the cobwebs from my tingly appendage. And that’s when the itching started, on the right side of my ribcage. And the burning. And the feeling that there was a needle sticking out of my side. But there was nothing there. Nothing but a tiny red mark. Uh-oh. Something had gotten me. I roused our chaperones and one of them drove me into Junction to find an emergency room. However, Junction does not have an emergency room. It has what can best be described as an emergency closet. The duty nurse paged the doctor, who arrived a few minutes later looking like he had just rolled either out of a bar or out of bed. Much like that doc’s appearance, a black widow’s web is rather disheveled (as you can see in my photo above). It’s their trademark, a far cry from the beauty of an orb-weaver. What a mess. But I guess when you’re a bad-ass mofo, you don’t have to clean up your room. If they could carry a wallet, it would look like this. "Looks like you got bit by sumthin," the doctor said as he examined my side. No shit. Inspection with a magnifying glass and pen light proved inconclusive. Was there one prick or two? Scorpion or spider? He gave me a couple hefty Benadryl and sent me back to camp. The venom had been in my system for three hours. After being bitten by a whoknowswhat, crawling back into your sleeping bag is literally the last thing you want to do. So I curled up in the front seat of one of our cars to try and catch a bit more sleep. Then came the tingling in my left arm. And then in my abdomen, and then my legs. I was walking through an invisible sandblaster, like there were metallic mosquitoes pricking every inch of my flesh. And then came the first cramp. Well, this isn’t good. Despite their name, black widow females likely don’t kill many males in the wild. But that didn’t stop one from trying on me. Her delicate fangs delivered a potent dose of latrotoxin, which immediately went to work on my nervous system.
Posted on: Thu, 19 Sep 2013 23:21:48 +0000
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