RSS Electronic Edition | Newsletters Subscribe | Customer Service Contact Us | Community Buy Photos Modmomsclub

Columnists - Columnists: Mike Mooney

Friday, Apr. 25, 2008

Hypochondriac's fears work overtime after caterpillar sting

E-Mail Print

I'm not sure how much time I may have left, so I'll get right to the heart of the matter. Ten days ago, I was stung by a buck moth caterpillar.

That's right -- stung by a caterpillar, and a poisonous one at that!

Somehow, the vicious little critter landed on the left side of my neck as Maggs and I wandered around the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans.

Everyone said I would feel better in a couple of days. They were wrong.

The nasty little critter made a lasting impression on me, much to my chagrin.

And speaking of grins, go ahead.

It's OK.

Laugh all you like.

After all, you certainly wouldn't be the first to react that way to this rather bizarre bit of news. Maggs, my so-called friends, even my own mother, can't look at me these days without splitting a gut.

Mrs. Crowley, a former neighbor of mine, laughed so hard her eyes began to tear up. I ran into her at the doctor's office Thursday morning, while waiting to have some blood drawn.

Not that my doctor can do much about it.

There is no known antidote -- no magic pill or elixir -- to counteract the venom of a buck moth caterpillar.

"Eventually," said a paramedic at the zoo, "your body's lymphatic system will take over and fight the infection."

So, just how long will that take?

"Oh," she said, "about two years."

At this point, I should tell you that I'm something of a hypochondriac.

When I was young, my mother forbid me to watch some of TV's most popular doctors -- "Ben Casey," "Dr. Kildare" and "Marcus Welby" -- because, by the end of the show, I would develop the symptoms of that week's featured disease.

Even so, for years I assumed any headache I experienced must be a fatal brain tumor. I also self-diagnosed many other imagined maladies.

So, the paramedic undoubtedly sensed the panic that swept over me when she made her little joke.

She grabbed my arm and tried to reassure me, between giggles, that the deep body aches, as well as that burning sensation in my suddenly swelling neck, would subside in a couple of days ... or a week ... or maybe a little longer.

"It's hard to say exactly," she said. "It all depends on how your body reacts to the venom. But it won't REALLY last two years."

That's a relief.

Wait a minute. What about my plane ride home? I told her I was due to board my flight back to California in about two hours.

She smiled and said nothing as she liberally coated my neck with baking soda toothpaste. The baking soda, she said, would help pull the tiny spines that the caterpillar left in my neck back toward the surface.

Spines?

The caterpillar's poisonous hairs, or spines, are hollow and connected to underlying poison glands, I later learned at the Virginia Cooperative Extension's Web site.

Contact with those spines causes a burning sensation not unlike a bee or wasp sting, at least that's what it felt like to me.

And just like a bee sting, until you experience it, no one knows for sure how your body will react.

In extremely rare instances, a bee sting can be fatal.

It's the same with buck moth caterpillars.

I made intense eye contact with the paramedic.

"Look lady, give it to me straight. I'm climbing aboard a 737 in two hours. What's the 'Doomsday' scenario?"

Well, she said, you really should consult with your own doctor.

"Fat Chance. I'm in New Orleans. My doc's in California. Even when I'm home, I can't get the guy on the phone."

Reluctantly, the paramedic warned me about the intense, deep-body, muscle aches I likely would experience. She handed me an ice bag and told me to keep it on my neck.

The coldness, she said, would help slow the spread of the venom through my blood system.

She also advised me to start popping some over-the-counter Benadryl, later confirmed by a pharmacist, to help control the pain, limit the swelling and mute the infection.

"Of course," she added, "if you feel your throat starting to close, or experience shortness of breath, call for an ambulance right away."

With that, she gave me her best reassuring smile. Besides, she added, they have plenty of oxygen on the airplane.

"Call for an ambulance? I'm going to be in airplane -- 30,000 feet above the ground. How's THAT going to work!?"

OK. We all know I made it home.

But it's been 10 days. That's 10 as in TEN.

Hello.

The pain is still here.

I've had enough.

Uncle.

Of course, I'm sure that equally nasty cold and-or flu bug I picked up a few days ago hasn't complicated matters.

Right!

My doctor prescribed an antibiotic for me. As he left the examination room, he smiled and shook his head.

"Good luck, pardner. Hope you're feeling better soon."

Huh?

Just what makes him think my luck will be changing anytime soon.

Mike Mooney's column appears every Friday in Local News. He can be reached at mmooney@modbee.com or 578-2384.