Well as if I didn't need any MORE reasons to have spiders it appears that my recent bout of Cellulitis was actually an infected spider bite. It must have happened on the Tuesday we were in Provincetown because even though I didn't see the bug or feel the bite I remember having heart palpitations and heavy sweating that night and the next day my ankle was headed to the size of an elephants foot.
After our travels and my self imposed torment so that we could see the places we were thinking of starting the commune on.
Well all we really did was allow me to get sicker so by the time we got home I was honestly ready to go to the E.R. I had already had an apt with my doctor the next day and John wanted me to wait another day and see what the doctor said. The doctor looked at my leg and called me an idiot. I couldn't defend myself because I had been an idiot, I put John's needs before my own health like I tend to do. I have a long history of this, there is even a time when we had a fuck buddy over and I was so sick I stayed in one of the spare rooms while they had fun. Unfortunately I was so sick I started to projectile vomit and started choking on it and when I called out weakly for John's help he was too busy and load to hear my calls even though I was just a door away. But the past is the past and I really need to forgive both him and myself for that.
Once on the antibiotics and (really good) pain killers I started to recover but I was (am still) weak and unable to balance myself but as the swelling started to subside I could see were the twin puncture's had filled with the infection and were now oozing puss. I know enough about first aid to bandage my wounds and use a ichthammol ointment to help draw out the toxins. so as of today I'm doing pretty well but I still have some of the poison in me and really want to squish every spider I see but I'm a good man and will hold back my wrath... for NOW.
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