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Darla got bit. Her husband, Jack, came and they are on the way to the emergency room with the live spider that she think was the culprit in a container. The bite is already red and swollen. Dammit. It may not even be a brown recluse bite, but there’s just no way that we are waiting to find out. Everything has to be treated like it is until we know it’s not. If the spider is a brown recluse it’s much smaller and more house spider looking than the last two that were definitely identified as brown recluse.
Darla reached under, or behind her desk to check a cable and that was that. She’ll be calling later from the hospital. Again, dammit.
The exterminator came yesterday and put out sticky traps, and sprayed the outside foundation, but, of course, I am allergic to anything that would work on these critters. I will need to be out of the house for five days and nights. When we get back from ComicCon, Jon and I, will have to spend at least one more night at a hotel rather than be able to sleep in our own bed. For most ordinary human beings six to twenty-four hours would be plenty to make the house safe for humans, but my reaction to it in college was severe enough that the exterminator didn’t want to chance it. Me, either.
We thought we could wait until we were gone for the five days of comiccon. The only alternative is to leave the house for five days now in the middle of one of the most trip filled months I’ve had. Okay, short of a multi-city tour. But either way I’d really rather not leave the house for five extra days this month. But I’m beginning to wonder if I need to do it anyway. Crap.