Surgery

Joe went climbing yesterday afternoon, and came home in disbelief at how sore he already was on his left side. Usually when he gets a good workout, it takes until the next morning to really feel it, so he was pretty proud that he had worked out so hard that day. When he went to take a shower, he found out that it wasn't the climbing that made him sore, but a tick that had imbedded itself in his side.

Now, I'm pretty sure my greatest fear my whole life has been getting a tick. With all the horror stories of Lyme's disease, and the best one I've heard, that they can grow a new body inside you if you don't get the head out. So needless to say, I freaked out. I called our friend that had had a few before, and he said to just dig the tweezers in as close to the head as I could, and pull it out. So, I pulled the little bugger out and it came out without a head. Crap. I called the friend again, said that there was no head, and he said that I had to dig it out. I literally cut and dug at Joe's poor skin looking for its stupid head for a half-hour. I called our friend, once again, told him I couldn't get it out, and asked if he could come do it for us. He came over, and wanted to see how much of the tick I pulled out. I showed it to him, and he informed us that the tick still had its head. The tiny little dot that I thought was the 'neck' where the head came off was in fact the head itself. Yep, I performed surgery for nothing. For thirty minutes. Shaking and holding back tears thinking my husband was going to get Lyme's disease because I couldn't find it.

When I woke up this morning and found my surgical tools sitting on the counter, I found it pretty hilarious. And, if you were wondering, Joe's wound is healing pretty nicely.