I've always had a healthy respect of spiders...even an admiration. They make cool webs and eat a lot of bugs. My dad read Charlotte's Web to my sister and I when we were in elementary school. I loved Charlotte - her compassion, her wit and her way with words. Charlotte saved Wilbur! Hooray for spiders!
Upon finding spiders in my home, I usually catch them and throw them outside. While we lived in Florida, Matt and Dan found a huge spider the size of a tea saucer in their room. It was so big that it made a flopping sound as it scuttled across their ceiling. After lots of commotion and yelling (ahhhhh), armed with a broom, coffee can and lid, Matt and I ascended the stairs. Brushing a mammoth spider off a cathedral ceiling with an eight year old wielding a broom is no small feat. We swished it as it plopped to the floor and I captured it! Yes - in the coffee can and then promptly marched outside and took it to a stand of trees to release it. Bye spider!
While in Mexico on an immersion trip meeting with the Sisters of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, Jack and I also captured a family scorpions (mom and babies) we found in our room and threw them over the stone wall into the ravine. At breakfast the next day, we told the Sisters and the rest of our travel-mates about our humane capture of the arachnids. Wide-eyed, the Sisters said, "Oh, next time just keeel them." We all laughed. Then Jack composed a song with a driving bass beat, "Scorpion, O Scorpion - Scorpion don't bite me! Please go to Jaynie's bed ---- instead." The Sisters were greatly amused by this funny song.
Jack taught me about brown recluse spiders - also known as fiddle back spiders down south in Nashville. He said that they were shy and hid from people - thus the name, recluse. However, Jack told me that their bite could cause skin necrosis and cause your flesh to be eaten away down to your bones. Yuck - I had never heard of that! We didn't have such spiders in Iowa. Oh, but we had them in Kansas. When we moved to our 1930's home in Kansas in 1993, Jack pointed out the brown recluse spiders in the garage. Later on, we found them in our home. Killed some of them, caught others and threw them outside but never were bitten. Thank goodness! One of my former LCM students was bitten while attending a wedding in Wichita, Kansas. The bite caused a large wound. I remember Isaac telling me about this in vivid detail. Ish. I sent Isaac picture mail of my bite. He replied that his bite looked the same.
So, on the morning of 8-19-08, when I looked down at my heel and noticed a angry-red, dime sized bite wound, I knew it was bad. By 2:30 that afternoon it was worse. I was feeling nauseous and had a slight fever. Off to the Express Care I went. The doc was surprised and had never seen a bite like that in Minnesota. He sent me away with antibiotics and I thought that would be the end of that. No such luck. Three day later it was bigger and I felt gross.
Off to my regular doc I went. She had practiced medicine in Tennessee and had treated folks with brown recluse spider bites. Said mine looked like theirs - ugh. Two more antibiotics - better and stronger, including one called dapsone for treatment of leprosy. Great.
Not so much. Ten days later on August 30 I was feeling really strange - super strange, feverish, exhausted, fatigued in a way I'd never experienced. What was up? I was almost done with my meds and according to the world of me, I was no better. Something was wrong. It felt like something was trying to shut me down. Little did I know, that's exactly what was happening!
What transpired is too long to tell (I've written at length about this entire ordeal elsewhere). Bottom line: I was succumbing to sepsis and I didn't know it. Jack rushed me to the hospital late Sunday night. Seven hours later I was fighting for my life in the ICU. My body, seeking to fight, search for and destroy the raging infection in my blood, was trying to kill me.
I was told that I had severe sepsis and that I might die. Through the wee hours of the morning of September 1st, by body went through cycles of severe rigors (violent shaking and chills from the high fever). Through my IV's and central line they pumped me full of antibiotics and other medicines to keep my heart from failing and other organs from shutting down. It was awful and, oddly enough through it all, I never lost consciousness. I even kept my sense of humor and joked with the ICU staff. They were amused and told me that most of their other patients can't even talk, much less crack jokes to keep them laughing. Ha ha. But into the middle of the night, nothing was funny any more.
I prayed - a lot. Others prayed, too. I cried. Others cried, too. Later I was told that the nurses and doctors didn't know if I was going to survive. They seemed grim. All they could do was wait. I was determined not to die. I didn't see Jesus, but certainly felt his presence through the night. By the amazing grace of God, through able and angelic nurses and the loving care of family and friends, I survived.
Of course, I lived to tell you about this. I had gained twenty pounds in fluids to keep me alive in the ICU. When I was released from the hospital five days later, I had lost a cumulative total of ten pounds by the time they flushed the fluids out of me. I was a waif and a shell of my former self. Once active in my biking, Aikido, walking and sailing - I could barely walk around in my house. I was ordered to be on medical leave for a month. I was an emotional and a physical mess. I had been to hell and back. It was horrible. When I returned to work, I could barely make it through one worship service. Yet, though I was grateful to be alive, because I could scarcely move, many days I was reduced and rendered to complete depression and utter despair.
It's taken nearly two years to feel almost "normal" again. Today was one of those days where I was suddenly overcome by sheer exhaustion and fatigue. When this happens I have to rest, slow down and sleep. Nothing else helps but that. Thankfully, those days are fewer and farther between - but they still haunt me. As with anyone who survives death, it has given me pause to consider the meaning of my life as well.
During my long recovery, I read a lot about other survivors of severe sepsis. Only about half of us survive. I read about spider bite stories. I searched for ancient wisdom about spiders. As it turns out, others who have survived bites have wondered about its meaning, too.
Someone else asked:
Spiders differ from insects in having eight legs rather than six and in having the body divided into two parts rather than three. The number eight laid on its side is the symbol for infinity. The number two implies the union of two forces joined together. Together they equal ten. Drop the zero and you are back to the starting point of one. The hidden message of spider is unity...
Recall the date of my bite: 8-18-08
Because spiders are actually very delicate they embody the energy of gentleness. Spiders are not usually aggressive unless they are defending their lives. Moving forward in all situations with a gentle strength is a skill that often needs to be learned for those with this totem. In [hu]mans, the bite of a poisonous spider symbolizes a death, rebirth process. Poison enters the nervous system and the body either transmutes it or falls victim to its venom and dies.
I read Native American stories about Grandmother Spider who is the creative weaver in creation. She represents the gift of writing and calls us to make use of our creativity and weave our dreams into our destinies. I ponder what it means to have transmuted poison. Surely this must be a good thing, right?
I think about spiders a lot as I knit hat after hat, scarf by scarf and blanket and prayer shawl alike. I think not only about the actual physical act of weaving through knitting, but my creative writing, too. This is one of the motivating reasons for this blog and my postings on Facebook. I've heard from folks that my writing is helpful. Others find it amusing; sometimes profound, inspirational and truth-bearing. I hope that's true.
My Aikido friends nicknamed me, Spider Woman. I like that. I don't fear spiders even though I nearly died. If anything, I have a deeper respect and fascination about them. I am still mystified over what it means to live with this spider totem and to bear the humorous tag, Spider Woman. But I do know that life is fragile, life is precious and you just never know when your life might just take a weird-creepy turn into the mysteries of life and death.
So, love God who breathes life into your being, love your dear family, love the children and love your creative-self into being a blessing to all you meet.
Blessed be!
