Tick Tuesday


The fever started on a Monday morning in June. By Friday, I woke up in a bed at Mount Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with yellow skin, an inflamed liver, a dull pain in my stomach and a doctor offering me morphine.

A rotating cast of specialists, residents and medical students began streaming past my bedside as I cowered under a mass of towels and blankets trying to hide from sunlight that was causing my head to throb. Their best guess was that a gallstone was causing bacteria to build up in my bloodstream.

A surgeon recommended a procedure to clear any blockages, sort of like a “Roto-Rooter,” he explained, a tad too cheerfully. Then my temperature spiked to 104. If some sort of medical device snaking through my insides could bring relief, I wanted it, now.

Just six days earlier, my wife Rachel and I had celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary watching a dance performance in Harvard Square, less than half a mile from where I lay. Now—after a week of sweat-soaked nights, a full-body rash, episodes of vomiting and violent, shaking chills—Rachel stood anxiously by my bedside, helping me pry my wedding band off my swollen finger as I prepared for surgery.


About Den

Always in search of interesting things to post. Armed with knowledge and dangerous with the ladies.
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8 Responses to Tick Tuesday

  1. Carol ٩(-̮̮̃-̃)۶ says:

    I’ve never encountered a tic to my knowledge. I think my dad had one burrow into his skin under his watch. I remember him painting the spot over w/ nail polish.


  2. Den says:

    Plenty of ticks in Northern MN, plucking them off our dogs constantly, 1/2 inch around, full of blood, yuck! Leeches from the lakes when swimming, horse flies, deer flies, and billions of skeeters. The only good bugs were fireflies.


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