Naked in the Front Yard – Part 2

This is the conclusion of my two part blog on the dangers of public nudity.  Wait.  No, that wasn’t what this blog was supposed to be about.  Well, if you missed it just click here and read the first part of the story.  Otherwise you’ll be hopelessly lost.  No, again that isn’t at all true, but you WILL miss out on some funny stuff.

Warning: What follows is a cautionary tale.  The events and actions which follow are intended to educate and inform, NOT to inspire mimicry.  In other words: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME.

Or, you know, do whatever you want.  I’m not your mom.

Virginia is For Lovers, Arizona is For Being Killed By Venomous Creatures

I had been stung repeatedly by a scorpion.  “Repeatedly” as in seven times… because the little menace was trapped within the folds of my pants and underwear.  In order to end the assault, I had been forced to strip naked in my front yard, much to the horror/amusement of all those present.  Horror for myself, amusement for everyone else watching the scene.  I tried to get a grip on the situation.  Scorpions were not something I was familiar with.  I didn’t deal with such alien beasts in my previous home in North Carolina, and all I knew was that in this moment my heart was racing and my hands were trembling, and I wasn’t sure if that was from adrenaline or from scorpion venom.  And I was being laughed at, but whatever.  Aside from apparently screaming like a little girl, I think I handled the creature’s attempt to sting my junk in an appropriate manner.

So, once again wearing my boxers, I approached Hollie and our neighbor for advice.  Hollie was now laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath.  So I turned my leg to show her the inside of my thigh and raised the leg of my boxers.  There, the sting marks were beginning to redden and swell at an alarming rate.

Hollie: (suddenly serious) Holy shit!  How many times did it sting you?

Me: I’m not sure. (after counting the swollen welts) Seven.

Hollie: Oh my God!  What do we do?

Are you fucking serious?!  What do we do?  That was, you know, NOT exactly the expert advice I was hoping to hear.

Neighbor: For someone your age, you should be fine.  But you should scrub the stings with antibacterial dish soap.  Bark scorpions are dirty little creatures that carry all sorts of disease.  The dirt can be even more dangerous than the venom.

Me: (Noticing my hands are shaking worse) Okay.  But… the venom.  It’s still dangerous?

Neighbor: It depends on the scorpion and how much of their venom they used.  Like the tiny baby scorps… they pump all their venom in one sting, thinking nothing of using it all up.  The bigger ones save their venom, so they can use it more than once.  Was it a big or a little scorpion?

Me: Uh… big.. ish?  I guess?  Bigger than some I’ve seen out here.  But… it did get me seven times… is that enough stings to use all it’s venom?

Neighbor: (shrugging) Hm.  Maybe.  I’ve never let one sting me so many times.

What the fuck?  I was starting to freak out.  My hands were DEFINITELY shaking badly at this point.  Was I just becoming more worked up, or was this the effect of the scorpion poison coursing through my blood?  Why didn’t these alleged Arizonans know anything about scorpion stings?!  At this point, I decided to follow the only advice I had been given.

Me: I guess I’ll take a quick shower and scrub with antibacterial soap.  What else can I do?

Hollie: I’ll go with you to keep an eye on you.

Even that phrase worried me.  Keep an eye on me?  For… what… signs of death?  If rigor mortis sets in, call 911, I guess.  I mean, this far from civilization, it’s not like an ambulance could reach me in time, should things start to go badly for me.  As we got in the house, Hollie began to freak out.

Hollie: I think you should take something!

Me: Take something?  Like what, an asprin?  It’s not a heart attack!

Hollie: No, it’s a sting, and by how quickly it’s swelling up, I think you might be allergic.  I think you should take some Benadryl.

Me: (inspecting the damage) Those stings ARE swelling up pretty quickly, huh.  Maybe you’re right.  It couldn’t hurt I guess.

So, I took one and a half times the recommended adult dosage of Benadryl.  One and a half… because the normal dose would be silly and double the dosage would be going entirely too far, I guess.  I took the dish soap to the bathroom and began to shower, scrubbing the irritated wounds with the antibacterial soap.  After cleaning the area, I came out of the shower and dried myself off, put some clean underwear on, and walked out to the living room.  There, I found Hollie on the telephone.

Hollie: I called poison control.  They have some questions for you to answer.

This wasn’t at all the day I had planned.  I wanted to pour some concrete, take a shower, relax until sunset, then pour some more concrete.  Not pour some concrete, get attacked by some deadly creature, then die convulsing on the floor, foaming at the mouth.  It’s a subtle difference.  After talking a bit with poison control and giving them my height, weight, age, and answering some general health questions, they put my mind at ease.

This is the symbol for poison control. His name is Mr. Yuk. Armed with this knowledge… how are we supposed to take them seriously?

Poison Operator: (which is the name of either someone who works for poison control, or a D.J. who plays the hair metal band Poison a lot… in this case I am referring to the former, not the latter) Given your size and general health, you should be fine.  Any bark scorpion could pump all it’s venom into you without doing much more than causing a burning sensation which will take several hours to subside.  Just make sure to clean the area well with an antibacterial soap.

Me: (finally relieved) Thank God!  I was worried.  This was the first time I was ever stung by a scorpion, and the thing hit me seven times. I was freaking out here.

Poison Operator: Haha.  No, nothing to worry about.  Just so long as you clean the area well and avoid using diphenhydramine for the next several hours.

Phew!  Wait.  What?

Me: Uh.  Wait.  Diphenhydramine?  That’s Benadryl, right?

Poison Operator: That’s correct, sir.  Just make sure you avoid using that.

Me: Crap.  Wow, too late.  I took a dose of that already.  Is that bad?

Poison Operator: Oh, well, it’s not good.  Just make sure you don’t drive a car or operate any heavy machinery.

Me: Okay?  What can I expect?

Poison Operator: Slow reflexes, slurred speech, feelings of giddiness and drunkenness.  In some cases of high doses of both scorpion venom and diphenhydramine, the result can be both auditory and visual hallucinations.

Me: (after a pause) Did you say hallucinations? Or… was that an auditory hallucination?

Poison Operator: Haha!  No I said hallucinations.  I suppose since you got stung seven times, that is an entirely possible concern in your case.

Me: (mumbling) Not to mention the overdose on Benadryl…

Poison Operator: I’m sorry, what was that?

Me: Hm? Oh, nothing.

Scorpions glow under a blacklight. They do this because they hold a lot of raves where they sting one another and take large doses of Benadryl.

Things NOT to Do When Tripping Balls on Scorpion Venom and Benadryl

I found the warnings of the possible side effects of combining scorpion venom and diphenhydramine very concerning.  But, honestly, aside from the burning on the back and inside of my thigh, I felt just fine.

…two hours later…

Me: Oh my God! Oh my God! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod I am soooooooooo fucked up!

I was, officially, tripping my ass off.  I no longer burned in the area where I had been stung.  Instead, it tingled.  Tingled to the point of tickling, causing me fits of giggles.  I was seeing vivid colors and trails behind moving objects.  My head was in a fog.  Everything seemed to reach me hours after it was said.  And. Everything. Was. Hilarious.

Here, then, is a list of things one should NOT do, should one accidentally find oneself high on a combination of scorpion venom and Benadryl (which, from this point on, I will refer to by it’s street name, Scorpadryl *)

1. Do NOT go to any public place.
2. Do NOT expose your children to the humiliation of your tripping ass.
3. DEFINITELY do not go to a library.
4. ABSOLUTELY do not go to an outdoor carnival, where all the fast moving rides are covered in colorful lights.

So, of course, my loving family saw to it that I did ALL of the above.  I, unfortunately, remember NONE of this.  Here, though, is how I’m TOLD things went.

1.  I am Convinced it Would Be a Good Idea To Go Out

Apparently, everyone waited until I made it clear that I was completely wasted before they “remembered” that the library books needed to be returned that very day.  Because, you know, if it wasn’t returned THAT DAY we would incur pennies… nay… NICKLES of library fees.  In truth, we had no library books out.  Hollie had dropped them in the overnight return two days before, but thought it would be funny to get me out in public in my state of Scorpadryl inebriation.  I slurred some incoherent complaint, which was laughed at.  I gave some explanation of well reasoned logic surrounding the fact that “the scorpion fairies won’t allow me to go into town.”  More hilarious laughter.  We piled in the Suburban and headed to town.  I lay on the floor in the cargo area, alternately giggling and babbling incoherently.

2. I Expose My Children to the Evils of Scorpadryl

Somewhere midway between the middle of nowhere in which we lived and the closest town, I caught the reflection of the road in the side window.  The INVERTED reflection.  At which point I apparently yelled out, “HOLY SHIT WE’RE UPSIDE-DOWN!”  I sat up, saw that we were in fact right side up, and promptly apologized.  “My bad.  We’re not upside down.”  The children couldn’t stop laughing.  I lay back down and began mumbling something.  Finally Hollie yells out “what are you going on and on about?”  I grew very quiet, sat up with a puzzled look on my face, and shrugged.  Then I looked at the children and said, “Kids, don’t do drugs.”

3. I Stumble in a Scorpadryl Stupor Through the Library

Apparently, in order to throw me off any suspicions that the excuse about the library books was a lie (which I probably had completely forgotten by the time we reached civilization), we went to the library.  This visit involved me tripping over a cart of books and talking entirely too loudly.  At one point, a librarian tried to quiet me, to which I yelled, “I can’t hear a word you’re saying over all this humming!”  There was no humming.

4. We Go to the Carnival

This was the real reason the family wanted to go to town.  They knew it was Gilbert Days, a big festival which surrounds the days of the Gilbert Rodeo.  The lure of spinning rides, rigged games, cotton candy, and deep fried everything was strong enough for my family to drag my ass out in the state I was in.  At this point the effects were beginning to wear off, but apparently not THAT much.  I am told I got into a conversation with one carny named Bubba.  After he told me his name and shook my hand I started to giggle and said, “I can’t believe your name is Bubbles.”  Bubba eyed me angrily.  I giggled.  “Bubbles,” I repeated, unaware of the personal danger I was in. After some time I wandered away from the group / got lost in the crowd / was completely forgotten by my loving family.  The length of time I was missing is uncertain.  When they realized I was missing, they searched around until they found me, lying on the sidewalk staring up at the fast moving Zipper ride.  Hollie asked me if I was okay.  I shook my head, “all the colors make my brain hurt.”

My mind… apparently… was blown. By this.

Moral of the Story:

Kids, don’t do Scorpadryl.  All the colors will make your brain hurt.  This has been a public service message from the Anti Scorpadryl Society**.

* There is no street name for this nonsense.  The only drugs with a street name are either ACTUAL drugs or synthetic drugs which lead to eating a person’s face.

**As there is no such thing as Scorpadryl, there is no such thing as the Anti Scorpadryl Society.  I just wanted to invent an organization with the acronym of ASS.