God gave Saturn rings. He gave earth spiders. What’s up with that?
I remember a nursery rhyme that went “There was an old lady who swallowed a spider/ That wriggled and wiggled and tickled inside her/ She swallowed the spider to catch the fly/ I don’t know why she swallowed a fly/ Perhaps she’ll die!”
It gave me the creeps when I was a kid. It gives me the creeps now especially this week when nature got all over me and I couldn’t get it off fast enough ending up not with swallowing a spider but with a spider in my pants.
Getting dressed on Wednesday I put my left leg in my pants and then my right and pulled them up only to feel a burning sting which caused me to drop my drawers faster than a two-bit whore on a Friday night. I saw the culprit almost at once and I know he saw me because he skedaddled across the floor. I admit I screamed before nailing him with my right shoe. And I swear I could hear his dying words, “My descendants will remember you and their revenge for my demise will be total annihilation for you and your children.” Talk about projected karma. It sent chills down my spine as the inside of my right knee heated up.
It didn’t take long for the venom to spread creating a splotch of red, hot skin that measured 5-inches across. And it itched. Badly. Moments after that the swelling started and didn’t stop until I had a third knee. And it hurt. Badly.
A third knee does not result in spiritual enlightenment like a third eye. Trust me on this one. The only thing a third knee results in is a trip to the drop-in clinic.
By the time I got to see the doctor, my discomfort level was a 12 on a scale of 10, and I was having a difficult time maintaining attitude control.
I looked down at my bare right leg with two knees. The doctor looked down at my right bare leg with two knees and asked, “So what brings us in today?”
I bit my tongue and didn’t say, “well you work here and I just felt like coming to the clinic and sitting around with sick people for two hours.” Instead, I took a deep breath, pointed to my third knee and answered, “I have a spider bite. It’s hot and swollen and itchy and painful.”
“Hmmmm,” he said looking at my new knee.
He then examined it and said, “Well I do see a large red area that is hot and obviously painful to the touch.”
I didn’t say, “Gee doc what was your first clue? The fact that I jumped through the roof when you touched it?”
“It’s definitely swollen.”
I didn’t say, “You think?” As the third knee outgrew my right knee two-fold right before our very eyes.
“It looks to me like you have been bitten by a spider.”
For a moment I thought I was in “The Twilight Zone.” Didn’t I just say not five minutes earlier “I’ve been bitten by a spider. It’s hot and swollen and itchy and painful?” Yes, yes I had and his repeating it didn’t make it any more or less true. It also didn’t make it feel any better. Grant you it didn’t make it feel any worse but his restating the obvious didn’t do much for my attitude either.
I didn’t say anything but couldn’t fight the uncontrollable urge to roll my eyes.
“Did you see the spider? What did it look like?”
“Well, it was black and smaller then a grenade and had eight legs.” My attitude was starting to slip.
“OK, I’m going to prescribe an antihistamine, an antibiotic and a steroid.”
“Steroids? Ok well I guess that kills my chances for the pickle ball competition at the next summer Olympics,” I said my attitude finally giving way altogether.
“Oh that’s not until 2024. The steroids will be out of your system by then,” he answered not missing a beat and with attitude matching mine.
Touché, doc. Touché.
Now I guess I’m going to have to learn to play pickle ball once my third knee goes away.