The Dreaded Spider Bite - Part 1

The Dreaded Spider Bite
Fear, Hopelesness and Recovery(ing)

by Maggie McCarey

  

      The spider that bit me was not a lovable arachnid named Charlotte. My nemesis was illiterate, or at least an ordinary spinner of webs. It did not care that I have carried spiders to safety for years and defended them to hysterical children; or, that native way teaches me to trust Grandmother Spider who spins light into the world. This spider did not move across my bed and bite in reaction to a sudden movement from me as I slept. How do I know this?  The spider started up a few inches, made two holes, not to its liking, and moved to a suitable drilling site three inches below and behind my left upper thigh, just out of sight and difficult to reach.

     How do I know it was a spider bite? I learned through this process that spider bites are indicated in contrast to other bites by an initial black spot where the venom of the spider causes necrotic damage until it is stopped.  This venom seems to carry an unusual intelligence that can adapt to any new attempt to dilute it within a few days.  This may explain why a spider bite takes approximately 6 months to cure. For we lipese who are constantly in danger of getting run away cellulitis by a simple ingrown hair, daily leg care gives way to hourly triage duty when nursing a spider bite.
 

“This is the life cycle of a necrotic arachnidism syndrome (spider bite). You’ll see it start from a small spider bite, to 1 hour with severe headache, impaired vision and weak to 18 hours producing joint pains (erythema endurated edema) all the way to 6 months later with a cratered scar.”

The spider bite cycle above is courtesy Oregon State Government.
(www.badspiderbites.com/necrotic-arachnidism-syndrome/)
 

      Of course, when I finally got around to taking this wound seriously, I immediately began the images internet search for examples of spider bites. The images turned out to be too horrific to impose on my readers here now. I will only say they were far worse than I imagined even though I knew a spider bite could easily be my undoing at any time. How did I know this?  My first exposure to lipedema was 30 years ago when an 80 year old woman called me at 2 am because I was her pastor and she had just been bitten by a spider. By the time I got to her home 20 minutes later, the ambulance crew had her strapped onto a gurney, and she was on her way to ER because quick and deadly cellulitis had already set in. Her daughter told me her mother was bitten by a spider years ago and immediately after her legs became heavier and heavier though she remained thin on top. Though she had starved herself for the past 40 years, she was obese and well, you know the rest of her story.

     September 16, 2017. I sat down at my chair after a busy afternoon being outside at my great grandson's 3^rd birthday party. I came in after the party and sat down at my computer. I became aware of an acute stinging sensation and I touched it though I couldn't see  it. That was the moment I should have been prepared for a spider bite rather than the moment I was afraid of one: my first stage 3-4  spider bite. Knowledge is key. A plan in place.

     I try to remain independent with my leg care. I often think we waste a lot of time talking about awareness, cures, and surgeries because lipedema is progressive, though some escape it, and we have more immediate issues, like how to keep skin from breaking down and bagging at our ankles; or how to get our toenails trimmed without absolutely burning our kids or mate out with daily needs. Today it was how to get a close look at the sting site. I splashed some lavender on it and the sting went away as did my memory of the yet identified bite. Over the next 3 days I did nothing. I felt the bite, but the warning signs? Seriously?  “...severe headache, impaired vision and weak to 18 hours producing joint pains....” Those and much worse are common for me on any given day, and this bite was out of sight and impossible to monitor.

     "Damn, that's hot," I thought on the 20th of September. I got my cell phone out and twisted my body, stretched out my arm as far away as I could from the bite and took a picture.

Worse days soon followed: a black spot and a beginning salvo of cellulitis.

     The photo to the right shows the hole getting deeper, white lumps growing  above the bite before cellulitis moved into the back of my leg at the inner thigh sometime in November, 2 months after the bite occurred.

     At this point, I had to make a decision to keep doing my own homeopathic course of action or go to urgent care.  When you decide to go all in with natural remedies, you have to battle the urge to run to a doctor for antibiotics. I have not had a prescribed antibiotic for 20 years. I have a very competent holistic nutritionist who has helped me to this point, and I was mentally prepared to see it through. However, with cellulitis well up my inner left thigh and my knowledge that it was either staph or strep bacteria, which can move quickly into sepsis, I made the decision to go to urgent care, not so much for myself, but for my husband and daughters who too use homeopathic medicine but who anguished over the idea that I was risking my life unnecessarily. 

     Was I risking my life? Yes. Just as I learned about lipedema in 2009, I lost a 28 year old parishioner, a single mother, who went to ER 3 times one night and was sent home twice. The 3^rd time, she died within half an hour. With the knowledge I have now, I could have saved her life, not necessarily with herbs, but certainly by going with her to the ER and being her advocate. Life is precious. That's why I went to urgent care.

  

     To be continued.  What happened at urgent care, what  I have learned from this most dreaded experience, and how I am better prepared for the “next” time. And, there will be one.

My last lipedema blog – although never say never

This is my last lipedema blog, unless I stumble upon some huge scientific breakthrough I just have to share with you. Beyond that, it’s time to retire.

I’m currently at my heaviest, over 40 and yet I’m the happiest I’ve been in a decade. My lipedema is not stable, the fat has crept back on after liposuction, I deal with food allergies that mess up my attempts to eat low carb, and yet I’m doing great. I’m not pain-free, my mobility is affected and yet I’m enjoying life to the fullest of my abilities.

I finally got it. My life is a gift. Growing older is not a curse. I get to watch my kids grow up, spend more time with my husband. I managed to start my own business, lived that dream to write a novel (and started on the next). I travel whenever I can. I do what I love and I love what I do. It’s a gift. I treasure it all and I’m no longer willing to give my life a 2-star review because I got dealt crappy legs. And crappy arms. And some serious badonkadonk extraordinaire. There’s a whole world out there and I want to explore it, experience it, as much as I can.

The trick, for me, is to put the lipedema on the backburner, not allowing it to become a priority (anymore). Unfortunately, ignoring my lipedema to a responsible degree takes effort. You can’t read everything about lipedema, manage a lipedema-themed Twitter account, blog about lipedema, frequent lipedema-themed support groups, attend lipedema conferences and ignore lipedema. Obviously. So, I need to step back. Be selfish, or rather, take care of myself. Therefore I retire from lipedema blogging and will devote less time to lipedema-related topics, groups and events.

I wish you all well. Writing for this blog, for you, has been an honor.

Lots of love,
Tatjana