Hello again dear readers. Well that was a bit of a break; partially inspired by work commitments and also because my last postings created such critical comment. I was trying to be light and amusing whilst making a serious point but I failed on all counts and stood accused of one or two very nice traits, like misogyny and homophobia. Hmm. Not what I was aiming for to be honest, nor what I’m like. So I figured that if my writing was causing so much offence I’d better take a wee break. Anyway I’ve reflected and just fancied getting back being ranty and opinionated again. And as a treat I’ve got a charming little subject upon which to re-open my blogging account. It’s caused me discomfort, a little nausea, some incredulity, a bit of embarrassment and a nasty little after-feeling. Retribution, some might say.
So what’s this posting all about then? Let’s call it a surprise visitor. A little fellah who arrived unannounced and obviously liked what he found at chez Pasta Paulie. Rather shockingly he appeared as I prepared to step into the shower. I was naked and he was just there, without a hint of shame. WTF….??
He looked like he meant business too. He wasn’t intending to leave without having my blood on his bony little frame. What do you do? Yelp, faint, strike out, run, look away? Boldly I decided to take a closer look at him. I recognised him instantly. It was a tick. A bloody tick and he was half burrowed into a very delicate place; I had a tick in my dick and he was gorging. Why you little blood-sucking bastard. Now readers of a delicate disposition may want to look away as this is the scene I was confronted with – well like this because, you’ll be pleased to note, I didn’t take an actual picture of the affected area…
But it still looks unpleasant right? Before he disappeared completely I reached down and very carefully pulled the little blighter out. Youch. His little nippers were well dug in. He came out whole thankfully and I brought him up to my face for a closer look. The little devil’s legs and nippers were going ten to the dozen – he was annoyed with me clearly for interrupting his dick-feast. I did’t feel like apologising and flushed him down the loo. Die hard you little bastard.
Now I got into the shower and throroughly cleaned myself before getting dressed and heading downstairs to tell my wife, who wasn’t exactly delighted to learn that I had critters living off Mr Midnight. We had a long conversation about where it might have come from until we realised I’d be doing my daughter’s garden in my shorts the previous day and presumably that’s where I’d picked him up. Anyway it didn’t really matter where, the point is he’d found me and I needed to make sure he’d left nothing behind. We’d read that in extreme cases, ticks can infect you with Lyme disease which really isn’t fun. My wife had to dash off to work whilst I headed up to my surgery’s walk-in centre. I just needed to check if I needed any antibiotics.
There was a fairly busy waiting room with probably a dozen people ahead of me and it looked like just two doctors on duty; a chap and a woman. Guess who I got? Yep doctor Jenny. I explained what had happened and she said it wasn’t unusual to pick up dog or deer ticks round here. She found them regularly on her golden retriever. That was slightly reassuring I said but unless that was a euphemism for her husband’s pecker then I was still a little worried. She did laugh and assured me that the risk of infection was very slim. I didn’t need a course of anti-biotics unless a nasty rash developed (it hasn’t yet) and the even better news was that she didn’t need to check out the bitten area. Every cloud.
So there you are dear readers, a return posting full of honesty and a wee bit of humility, and hopefully offence-free this time. When it comes to tick gourmet night I can genuinely say “Dick’s off”.