This is what happens when you get lackadaisical about country life: you get bitten by a Potentially Deadly Spider.

Although, I consider myself extremely lucky because I didn’t KNOW I was bitten by a Potentially Deadly Spider until I was sitting across from my doctor. Seeing a Potentially Deadly Spider bite me? Probably would have killed me on the spot.

On Wednesday night while I was curled up in bed, something bit me. When I woke up on Thursday morning, I noticed the bite(s), but I didn’t really think anything of it. It just looked like two little mosquito bites on my upper arm. I live in the country, bug bites are part of the charm. But by Thursday night I noticed that what looked like a harmless bite was red, swollen and bumpy all across the top of my arm. It wasn’t at all itchy like a normal bug bite, but was painful to the touch. By Friday morning, there was yellow puss coming out of the bite marks. By lunchtime on Friday,  there was a red line stretching across my bicep and another stretching around my back and across my shoulder blade. That got my attention.

So, I did what every smart, modern girl does when faced with a tough problem. I twittered my symptoms and asked the masses what they thought I should do about it. The general consensus was to see a doctor.

I’m going to stop here and point out the fact that my doctor’s name is Narwhal. Now, I’ve made a point to never judge a person based on their given name. It’s not Daisy’s fault her parents really like Disney cartoons, right? It’s not my husband’s fault his mom took a cross-country motorcycle ride while 7 months pregnant and saddled him with the middle name Norton to commemorate it. So, It isn’t Narwhal’s fault his parents took a look at him and decided he was half mythical creature and half sea creature.

See? Narwhal’s are strange. They are half unicorn, half dolphin, all weird.

But really, it’s not HIS fault that his parents don’t understand playground dynamics and the consequences of naming your child Narwhal. Except this doctor totally lives up to his name. He’s a great doctor, but a little… off. He doesn’t ever tell me what medicines I should take, he asks me what prescriptions he should give me. He always explains in detail what is probably wrong with me, giving me several possible scenarios and then tells me all my treatment options and asks me what I want to do about it.

This is kind of awesome and kind of terrible. It means I’m very well informed about everything going on with my body, but it also means that I am completely responsible for what is going on with my body. I really can’t blame him if I suddenly die because I chose the wrong treatment. It’s complicated and scary. He’s supposed to be omnipotent and knowledgeable and tell ME what needs to be done. He’s the one that wasted thousand of dollars and years at medical school. Also? The last time I was there, he asked me if he could get me anything else. Cough medicine? Prescription pain killers? Anything? Like he’s a waitress at the prescription bar. I don’t know what to make of him.

Regardless, this time he looked at me and told me that what I have is two spider bites, probably from a Potentially Deadly Spider. He was guessing a Recluse but hoping for something less terrible. Then he laid out my treatment options. I could have a shot that probably wouldn’t work. I could start taking antibiotics that probably would work, but he can’t guarantee it. I could get a tetanus shot. I could go down to the bigger clinic and have my bite tested to see if it was a Recluse and then follow the much more complicated treatment plan for that. I explained that I was going out of town and couldn’t really go to the bigger clinic. He looked at me like I was crazy. Did I hear the part about Potentially Deadly if not properly treated? I did. Did he hear the part about my nephew’s birthday party this weekend? With cake? I really like cake.

Of course, I like living too. So, I took the tetanus shot and he doubled my antibiotics and warned me to go immediately to the emergency room if it got too much worse. The kind of spiders that are most likely to cause this reaction are only dangerous if you don’t get treated. I didn’t have a fever, my heart rate was fine and I came in as soon as I realized something was wrong. So, I wouldn’t die. I would probably just linger on in agony while my upper arm turned black and decayed.

And here’s the completely anticlimactic ending: It didn’t get worse. It’s fine. I’ve got a red patch and four tiny fang marks and my arm is a little sore. But honestly? The tetanus shot hurts worse. I’ve now faced my greatest spider fear and lived to tell about it. The end.

Oh- and the cake was delicious.