What to do if a spider bites you

It has been a long time since I have felt as loved as I do now. Thank you, to each and everyone of you who have inquired about my health since I was stung by something. You can catch up here.

Since that fateful moment, that little sting sure has hung around and indeed, has become quite the physical feature on my upper right back of thigh. Just under the ass buttock sag, if you require more geographical details. It has manifested into a lump the size of a golf ball and switches between being very itchy, then hot and then tender. I haven’t been feeling great, and I put that down to this FUCKING HEAT OF A THOUSAND SUNS and normal hormonal mood swings that are heightened by the FUCKING HEAT OF A THOUSAND SUNS.

Anyway, I showed the area to my good friend and neighbour Mrs. Goodman and she took one look at it and said….

“Dude. That is a spider bite.”

And because she is from South Africa and knows much about these things, I believed her. Everyone needs a friend, preferably living in your street, like Mrs. Goodman. It is like having my very own pharmacist, GP, mixologist, counsellor, fashion consultant and barista always on duty. One time, after I had spent the better part of the morning texting her, complaining about a very bad situation regarding a flap hair that was basically trying to re-birth itself, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to fund Mrs. Goodman standing there with tweezers in one hand and tea-tree oil in the other. She had a glint of determination in her eyes and I knew that the next ten minutes of my life were not going to be my favourite or my best.

I needed to go to the chemist.

Now, recently our little village went though a little change. Our pharmacist, Mr. Farmer just vanished overnight! Which was a shame as he knew the secrets of which Desperate Houswives of Lindfield was on which mood altercation meds. Xanax for Mrs Parsons, Zoloft for Mrs Turnbull, you know the drill. And although he appeared to be eighty billion years old, he would often comp you a box if you had ran out of repeats, as you promised to drop your script in as soon as possible.

Oh, I didn’t mean to alarm you! He didn’t pass away. He simply retired, handed over the keys and drove off into the night without telling anyone of his plans. The man didn’t like a fuss.

The recipient of the keys were two new pharmacists who looked like the had just graduated. Slowly they transformed that dinky little chemist into one that was much more functional. I mean, like it is now opened till 6pm and get this…. It is now open on a Sunday! I introduced myself to them as I handed over my Lexapro script and told them that they always had to have hearing aid batteries in stock and of course, welcome to the neighbourhood!

But I am moving away from my point, and that was that I needed some advice about my spider bite.

We had a little chat about what happened, my symptoms before he asked if he could take a quick look. Now as much as I wasn’t keen on showing a man my upper back of thigh, the thought of death wasn’t appealing either. So I quickly pulled up the back on my skirt and offered him my thigh for inspection, I heard him sharply intake oxygen before handing over some cream and some antihistamine then telling to to go home and get out of this heat.

I liked him immediately.

So again, thank you so very much for your concern. I do believe I will pull though and make a full recovery.

And if you really want to know what to do when you get bitten by a spider, please click here.