Sep 9, 2009

So, What Bit You?

To Hell with health care, what I wanna know from my 24 regular readers is, "what bit you?"

Apparently, there is a show about injuries received from ferocious animal attacks and bites. Carnage, scars, oozing wounds, paralysis. You know the folks who watch it are the same folks who love peeling back a scab just to see if it's healing in there or if it's full of putrescence and bile.

I know that Geckofeeder's brother prolly has the best story yet, making history out of the most dubious sort of fame.

And I know a friend's daughter made the local news with a shark bite on her ankle. Years ago my brother lost some vital shin skin and muscle to a brown recluse spider in Texas, and my sister was temporarily blinded by a scorpion sting when she was a toddler in Corpus Cristi.

I've had a spider bite on the nape that gave me horrible headaches and neck spasms for a year, and having raised miniature dachshunds, I can attest to more than one doggie bite, but nothing serious. I wonder how common it is for us to find ourselves at the receiving end of the food chain?

So, what bit you? Let's see what sort of feral world we really still live in. Let's say whatever bit you has to be bigger than a virus so that we don't have to include Politicians.

.

20 comments:

Jim - PRS said...

Two dog bites and a bee/hornet bite inside my mouth (It landed on my bologna and cheese sandwich, and I didn't know it until too late.)

mushroom said...

When we lived in a house on a slab in Texas, I left my pants on the bedroom floor one day. Later I put them on. They were full of fire ants. This was most unpleasant.

More recently I was running my trimmer up a fence line when a little dashshund came hobbling wearily by in the summer heat. A bit later a minivan came up the drive carrying a very pretty blonde lady and a couple of kids. They had been pursuing this semi-feral pooch for over a mile trying to catch it in order to try to help it out. I went down in the brush after it and caught it trying to climb a bank in some deep fescue where the little guy bogged down. It was a fighter so I finally just stuck one hand in its mouth in order to get the other hand -- which had already been bitten anyway on the nape of its neck. As I hauled it gently out in bloody hands, the little SOB pooped on my shirt.

I didn't bother with tetanus shots. I figured he'd probably live.

oceanguy said...

A Bee.... same bee stung me close to a dozen times... As a 7 or 7 yr old, I slipped on a fresh new pair of tightie whities not knowing the bee was in them... Thankfully I'm not allergic, but getting stung even once in or around the budding jewels would have been bad enough, but a handful of times was misery.

No lasting effects that I notice.

Joan of Argghh! said...

Hmmm. . . I'm seeing a trend here. Bees.

Boy, are we an adventurous lot! But bees around the jewels sounds decidedly awful.

Erica said...

I was a kid and I went to feed my dog Bingo some of my chicken drumstick (I wasn't enjoying it very much, and my mother wasn't looking), except when I tried to pull it away from her so she wouldn't eat the bone, she lodged a tooth in my left thumb between the joint and the cuticle. Freakin' HURT -- I couldn't write for a week.

Off topic, sort of: My word verification is "swordeat."

Anonymous said...

Alright, alright. Here it is. Once in a previous life I was hanging out on the riverbank with some friends. Since my son will likely read this I won't tell you what wee'd (pun intended) been smokin. I found a nice mound of Mother Earth to rest my backside on and was enjoying the buzz - I mean, afternoon.
There I was, an over-fed, long-haired leaping gnome when I began to feel something tickling my arm. After brushing it off several times I took a look down to discover a swarm of red ants, like Mao's Red army had completely covered my arm and was making haste to do the same to the rest of me before I could react. Fortunately for me they were apparently waiting for the signal before they gang-pained me, killed me and dragged my bloated, lifeless carcas off as an offering to their queen. In a flash I was up, jumping and screaming and beating them off along with my clothes and seriously considering a dip in the St Johns. This, of course was thoroughly entertaining to everyone but me but I did not suffer even one bite.
So, this isn't an actual "bitten" story, but it's close.
And yes, I still get called the ant-boy on occasion.

The J.R.

pamibe said...

I've been incredibly lucky; only a bee sting. Not for lack of trying, either, since I grew up out in the back end of nowhere and roamed the woods at will.

Ants and skeeters have gotten me as well, but I sense you are looking for more of a Davy Crockett kilt a bar story here... ;)

Anonymous said...

In Texas, you can run around your front yard in your underwear, screaming, if say the two magic words 'Fire ants".
As a gardener, I get bit on a regular basis.
(And I must confess, I fall into the peel the scab camp. Though it's more like 'surgery with a clean needle'.)
Sal

julie said...

I've not been bitten by much, but Mushroom's tetanus shot reference reminded me that I did once manage to stab myself in the side of my finger with a rusty chisel. It was in a sculpture class, where the project involved making plaster casts of our hands with a wax mold. The mold had to be chiseled off the plaster, and I slipped. Oops. My finger swelled up on impact, so my first thought was that a chunk of wax had gotten jammed in there as well. Which apparently made me turn a rather alarming shade of Casper. After valiantly managing to not pass out, I decided a trip to see a man about a shot was probably in order.

I don't need to get bitten by much, since I'm probably more a danger to myself than anything else could ever be ;)

ZZMike said...

"Apparently, there is a show about injuries received from ferocious animal attacks and bites."

Discovery channel? Last night on the weather segment, they did a couple of spots on people who wandered off into the wild and got lost. #1 was a family with 3 kids who went Christmas-tree chopping. Parked the car, walked off into the woods, then along came a storm, they had no idea where they were.

Much as I sympathize with their plight (3 days, fierce storm, close to death and all that), I have to wonder about their common sense.

But shark bites are one thing I can happily avoid at any cost.

robinstarfish said...

Hobo spiders, yellow jackets (to which I'm allergic), the regular stuff.

But the worst was what I bit. Some enlightened idiot convinced this gullible idiot that eating poison oak would immunize me for life - an old Indian remedy, you know. I survived, barely, to report it ain't true. Instead of a nasty oozing skin rash when one brushes up against the stuff, eating it produces excruciating oozing sores from every pore - and I mean every - in the body. Eyes, ears, tongue and especially in the um, tender and private areas, producing pictures you see in some awful medical journal.

Somewhere, Old Indian is still laughing his ass off.

Sam (EOTIS) said...

When I was about 8 years of age, I wrecked my bicycle into a beehive. Got about 30 stings.

A year later, (this is an almost) me and my buddy were damming a creek in the Tennessee woods. We saw a cottonmouth ( water moccasin, and they are aggressive) swimming directly at us. We broke for the bank...too late. It had four choices...his two legs, or my two legs...it chose his left calf, and he was on my right. Have you ever seen anyone bitten by a snake? Not a pleasant thing. His father did the pocket knife x-cut on both the fang marks, and started sucking blood out. It worked, he's still alive, but he spent about a week in the hospital. It was a close call. After that, when out and about in the woods, I always try to keep a shotgun with me. My first was gifted to me by my Grandfather. It wouldn't have done us any good in the creek, but still...it's better to have one and not need it, than to need one and not have it.

Another almost: I was hiking in he Pacific Northwest with some friends when we jumped off a natural Beaver dam. We were about a mile from "the truck" and had no gun. Momma Grizzly Bear with two cubs, about 30 yards away, was pissed...she stood up and roared like you wouldn't believe . We broke...I did a mile through the bush in record time. I would've made a Nigerian proud. I learned then and there, that I'm much more comfortable armed when there is a slight chance you might run into something that is 10 times your size.

Another almost: I was in an old Air Force (F-4 I think) survival raft about 400 yards off the coast of St. Augustine Florida when a 10 foot shark started paying attention to us. It was longer than the raft and came within about 5 feet of us several times. My ass was tight. The swells...now you see it, now you don't. We stopped paddling and got on the rails...drifted in and crashed onto the jetty, and I damn near broke my leg. It was a BIG fish.

Another almost. Climbing out of the Grand Canyon in August one year, I pulled myself over a rock at the top of a switchback, and came face to face with about 30 rattlesnakes. I pushed back and fell / rolled about 50 feet down and busted my ass for certain. I still had 5 miles to the top rim. Long day.

The worst: St. Augustine again. I received a phone call early one morning from my buddy who was in jail...minor infraction...but still needed to be bailed out. I told him I didn't remember where my car was...it was one of those nights...he said, take mine, you know where the keys are. No problem, got his keys and threw my boots into the back seat. Arrived at the county jail, which was surrounded by a tall razor wire fence...got out of the car and put my boots on and laced 'em up...hit the buzzer for access...and double wham. A scorpion tapped me twice on the bottom of my foot. It was in my boot. I was hopping around on one leg trying to get my damn boot off...the cops were laughing, and I was in pain. I got my boot off, poured the (big ass) scorpion out, and smashed it flat. The law finally understood what had happened and took me to the hospital. I'm not normally allergic to stings, but this was different...I started feeling queasy / dizzy almost immediately. I received some injections and slept for 2 days. Seriously, I thought I was going to die.

More later...

Holder said...

When I was a wee girl it was common for us to pee outside instead of coming home to do the deed, until I sat bare-assed onto a fire ant mound. spent the next several days in the tub.
I've been stung by wasps and yellow-jackets plenty, and got bit by a german shepherd. Still afraid of those damn dogs.
Not very interesting, huh?

Ex-Dissident said...

Lots of small criters. A bee, an ant, a jelly fish,... I cannot recall any big predators.

Joan of Argghh! said...

Yep. We live pretty far removed from the bigger, feral things. However, for sheer squealing ickiness, how about being host to a bot fly?

Eeeeewwww!

.

dick said...

An alligator gar, about 5-6' in length grabbed my right ankle and began to shake violently. The scars are still plainly visible 35 years later.

Joan of Argghh! said...

Okay, I've just gotta say that Ant-boy's story is a new one on me. Just when you think you know someone!

Dick, my dad got bit on his big toe by an eel that I haplessly caught one afternoon while fishing in the rain. The damn critter latched right onto his toe, much to his consternation and the delight of myself! I'd forgotten that until you reminded me of those nasty gars I used to swat with the cane pole.

Max Drive said...

The usual bees, wasps and hornets got me.
A Brown Recluse left a dent in my shin and a calcification that shows on xrays.
A Queensland Heeler "Heeled" me.
A Pit Bull tried to get my face but got my thumb instead.
A Gray Squirrel bit my finger instead of the nut I had for him.
A River Otter didn't want to be petted. Nice scar on my hand from him.
A Pelican reached out and grabbed my hand then twisted and pulled. I guess he was hungry.
Horse bites hurt!
Worst bite I ever had was from a motorcycle. I was pinned under it in a puddle and it was still running. I pulled one sparkplug lead and got hit by the charge from the coil. The bike didn't die. The hardest thing I've ever done in my life was pulling the second lead knowing exactly how much it would hurt.

Joan of Argghh! said...

Well, Max, you certainly take the prize for the most diverse number of bites. The motorcycle one sounds particularly nasty, although most men refer to their bikes as, "she" . . . which conjures up all sorts of apt observations!

:o)

Max Drive said...

Yes Joan, a lot of men do refer to their bike as a she. Anything that is difficult to understand and has a tendency to be difficult must be feminine in their opinion. I have always wondered if women who ride consider their bikes to be male for the same reason.

I'm pretty sure the diversity prize is a result of repeatedly offering flesh to various critters. I blame Disney. Those dear little furry creatures BITE!