In the August of 2009, I along with my mom and two brothers were living with my grandparents, just outside the city limits of Little Rock and I had fallen into the habit of sleeping outside at night, a very relaxing and tranquil activity that I would highly recommend. When I was ready for bed, I would take a pillow out onto their deck, and lie down in the hammock, falling asleep under the stars, which since we were outside of the city, shined brightly most nights. It was camping without all the terrible parts. I don’t know if it was during the last days of August or the first days of September, but somewhere in that span of a few days, I got bitten by a spider while I was sleeping. I didn’t know what the itchy red spot under my arm was at first, but within a couple of days it swelled up so big that I couldn’t put my arm down, because of how painful it was to put any pressure on the golf ball sized bump.
We had to leave town, for Lubbock, Texas the next day for my great-grandmother’s funeral, and I knew the ten hour drive would be torture in my current condition, so late that night I went to the emergency room to get my spider bite treated. I had to wait for what seemed like hours before I was taken to another room where I had to wait some more, while watching a Chuck Norris infomercial about a weight lifting set playing on the television in the corner of the room. When the doctor finally arrived he confirmed that it was a spider bite and that I needed a shot to drain the bump in case it was filled with poison so I wouldn’t die. He injected the needle directly under my arm, and in that moment I was convinced that death was probably preferable than the pain that the sharp needle was causing me, but soon enough it was over, although the pain from the bite remained.
The doctor gave me some painkillers and told me to take them as needed, which I did, and I guess the worked because I don’t remember hurting much anymore after that. To be honest, I don’t really remember much of anything. I was knocked out for most of the drive to Texas, with the vague memory of waking up at some point to eat a doughnut. No amount of sleep inducing medicine could keep me from enjoying a doughnut apparently. I don’t remember all that much about the funeral either, so whatever I was taking, must have been pretty effective. To my knowledge, I’ve never been bitten by a spider again, and hopefully never will be, but if it has to happen, maybe it will take place right around the time that I have to do something unpleasant, because at least then, I won’t have the sad memories that go along with it.