As may of you have heard by now, I was brutally attacked Thursday night. So there I was, sitting on my couch, finishing up a homework assignment for my evening class. I felt a small tickle on the back of my arm. Its starting to get pretty hot in AZ these days, and share this common trait with my lab in that we both shed excessively in the heat, so I figured it was one of many hundred hairs that was stopped mid-flight and stuck on my arm. I casually brush it away only to feel a burning sensation the back of my arm. I looked down since I was confused as to why my own hair would burn my, when this mighty midget comes marching around my arm to confront his attacker. It was a scorpion. Scorpions aren't known to attack people unless threatened, but this little sucker broke into my house, scaled my couch and then my body, yet he looked me up and down like I was the bad guy. I had my best poker face on as I devised my plan to creep into the kitchen to fetch a paper tail and remove the intruder tail first. I made it about halfway when I apparently flinched during the staring contest because he turned around and went back to the back of my arm. No worries, or so I thought. I took about two more steps when I feel him take a left turn and go under my sleeve and climb into my armpit. Ok, now I'm panicking. He's making his way down my side, and I happen to be wearing my "fat" jeans. From what I know about scorpions I know he only needs the slot a size of a credit card to get where he wants to go, so the one inch gap around my waist was more than enough for him to slide through. Now I know many of have seen the recent movie clip of Hillary Duff in War, Inc where she drops a scorpion in her underwear and dances around as though it turns her on. If I were Brett Michaels, I might try this out as well to see if I agree, but I am not. I figure I'm going to be stung a second time, but I need to get the scorpion off my me, so I decide I'll just whip my t-shirt off.
Ok, I just feel like there needs to be another paragraph here, not because its appropriate writing, but the last one was way to long. So, I rip my shirt off and toss it to the ground, and luckily to not get stung again. I shake my shirt out to try and find the sucker, and he's not there. I start looking around for him because I'd like him to leave, and can't find him. My computer was on so I messaged my sister about what happened and how I was just going to write it off and go to class, but she suggests calling the doctor. The nurse who answers tells me I need to get to the emergency room asap to find out if I'm allergic to the venom. Fine. I call the front office of my class to tell them I will not be there, and the woman who answers immediately goes into a frenzy naming off potential side effects. Can I see? Yes. Can I breathe? Yes. Am I naseous? No. Do I have a ride? No. So she tells me if I choose to start driving myself to pull over if I feel strange at all and to call 911 as certain venom can take a person out very quickly. Well isn't this fantastic news. So what do I do? I proceed to try and hunt down my assassin because if I'm dying, he's going down with me. After several minutes my voice of reason kicks in (a.k.a. my sister) and says to forget my enemy for now and get myself to the hospital. I curse his name outloud since I'm sure he's still around and can hear me, grab another shirt, and drive myself to the ER.
Unlike most people's experiences, I only wait 1-2 minutes before escorted back to the doctor. First I get asked if I got a good look at my attacker. I did. I'm asked to describe him carefully. I look around for the sketch artist, to make sure I give him every detail, but my guess is he's behind the one way mirror. Then I get asked a serious of unrelated question (Does my boyfriend beat me, do I prefer coke or pepsi, etc) and then start doing an equivalent of a field sobriety test. In the middle of this test I notice I'm having trouble focusing and my head is a bit cloudy. Oh great. I'm drunk. Not so, it seems. The attacker I described is the only known scorpion in these parts that is poisonous and it seems he got me. There is good news and bad news in this. The good news is they classify symptoms from level 1-5. I'm a level one, so I should be fine...for now. The bad news is that it can take 4-6 hours for the more severe symptoms to develop, so I will be kept in a petri dish for observation. If I happen to hit a level 4 or 5 they have a new experimental anti-venom drug from Mexico that hasn't been cleared for use, but they feel strongly that it is effective. Right. For the next few hours I sit on a hospital bed doped up out of my mind. My stomach is doing backflips and it feels like the scorpion is running laps from my elbow to my shoulder. Apparently this is fine, but if he makes a break for my wrist or chest it means I've jumped up a few levels. Eventually they are satisfied that the worst has passed, but to watch myself the next few hours and to come back if something out of the ordinary occurs. I drive the one mile back home and collapse on my couch for some much needed rest. Actually, I could really use some sleep right now so I'll just call this part 1 and finish it up a different time. Good night, all. :)