It's spider-rific! NOT

Abby's leg is still trying to rot off. I am so sick of dealing with this stupid spider bite I could scream. I hate spiders, have since I was a teenager and this just fuels my loathing of them even more. Over the past week and a half I've heard just about every comment under the sun:

"It's probably not even a spider bite. Most 'bites' are actually MRSA."  I agree, most "bites" probably are, but dude, we had the spider. I carried it in a Dixie cup in a ziploc bag IN MY PURSE to the doctor's office. It's definitely a brown recluse spider bite.

"Well, when my uncle's brother's cousin's friend who works at the CoOp with a gal he graduated from trade school with got bit the doctor put him on high-powered antibiotics and steroids IMMEDIATELY! Tell your doctor that's what you want." Telling her doctor that's what we want and him actually doing it are two different things, friends and neighbors.

"You need better insurance." Yeah, well, you pay the premium, bucko, and I'll be happy to sign the kids right up. As it is, they pretty much treat us the same as someone coming in with no insurance. We get the bare-bones treatment. Talk about making you feel super special and making you feel like they don't value your child's health one bit. It is a warm, fuzzy feeling, lemme tell ya.

"Try [remedy X]. When I got bit I [soaked my foot in gasoline] [peed on a gerbil] [walked around my house 12 times while playing the kazoo] [sucked the venom out like they show 'em doing to snake bites on old episodes of Gunsmoke] [dug it out with a spoon]." *sigh* Sorry, I'm probably not going to soak my daughter's leg in gasoline no matter how it worked out for you. And we are definitely not bringing a gerbil into this house. It would probably bite someone.

"Pray." Oh, we are doing this. Fervently. I don't think it would be doing as well as it is if we weren't. But God also gave us doctors. And herbs.

And believe me, there are more. I appreciate everyone's honest, good intentions, but you can only hear "When my brother got bit..." so many times before you start to chuckle.

That all being said, we are taking her to some random, total, complete stranger tomorrow afternoon - a random, total, complete stranger who apparently makes a wicked herbal poultice that will heal the bite up in two weeks, she says. How did we hear about this random, total, complete stranger? A lady at church was at the beauty shop and someone there had a family member who this woman helped. Folks, I couldn't make this up if I tried. I believe in herbal remedies, I really do. Otherwise I wouldn't be taking my daughter to a random, total, complete stranger.

If I don't see intensely real, true results from the herbal treatment by about mid-week next week I am making an appointment with a doctor in Oklahoma City who is having amazing, guaranteed results with "zapping" spider bites, mainly brown recluse and black widow bites. He uses a low voltage charge, similar to what a chiropractor uses to stimulate muscle contractions and shocks the bite. It changes the molecular makeup of the venom and the zap stops it from poisoning the tissues. From what I read, healing - visible healing - begins within 24 hours. So why am I waiting on this one? The one that seems the quickest and most sure? Well, mainly because Abby has already missed two days of school this semester, she gets behind very easily (especially in math) and I just would like to not have to drive to the City in the middle of the week, although the thought of seeing my sister does make my heart go pitter patter. I miss her something awful. 

I never dreamed a stinkin' spider bite would get this involved and cause this much turmoil in my brain!!

In a positive development, she isn't checking her bed quite so obsessively anymore. It was at least a heartbreaking 15 minute ordeal involving her pulling back every blanket and me shining a flashlight on every square inch of blanket and sheet, her throwing each and every pillow onto the floor where she would then proceed to stomp the living daylights out of each one, then finally, before actually getting into the bed, she would bounce on it repeatedly to scare any little buggers out, then one more pass with the flashlight and she would finally get in bed. Now we're just down to shining a light down at the foot of the bed, fluffing the pillows and bouncing once or twice.

She's just dadgum disappointed that she can't shoot a web out of her wrist. Peter Parker totally got the best deal around.