The Amazing Spider-Wheels

Warning: the following post contains super cool pictures of wounds, which some people might consider gross - enjoy!

  My fiancé and I were really excited to attend the 2015 Comicpalooza. We purchased tickets to four days of nerd/geek bliss full of comic book artist, celebrity guest and pop-culture fun. He and I spent a year saving for autographs, photo-ops and merchandise. The night before the big event I was bit by a spider. It happened while I was asleep and when I woke up the next morning my arm was stiff and sore. A small lump formed, but since there was no blood I just put antibacterial ointment on it and we headed off to the convention.

"For all the planning we did, I wish we'd checked my scooter days ago," I said as my fiancé helped me across the carpeted halls.

  We planned to bring my power chair, but had waited till the day before the event to load it. The chair was at my mom's and she put it on the charger the night before. The next morning, I received a phone call.

"Honey, your battery is completely dead. I had this thing on the charger all night and it didn't charge at all," my mom said.

  Great.

  We spent the rest of the day trying to find a battery, but with no luck. Finally, I gave up. It was going to be difficult, but last year, I'd traversed these hallways in my manual chair. The only problem this time was the pain I felt in my right arm as I struggled to push myself. I never knew a spider bite could hurt so much. It didn't help that the wound kept rubbing against the tire as I maneuvered the wheels. When I got home, I noticed the bite forming tiny pockets of pus and was red, so I decided to wear a bandage and a sleeve to protect it from the tires.

  The second day at Comicpalooza was AMAZING! I got to meet a bunch of celebrities I loved, take photos with some of them, talk to cool and interesting people, and hang out with some good friends. But despite the excitement, my arm was really hurting and I wasn't feeling so great. My energy level was almost zero, but I chalked it up to the convention hype. As we were leaving the convention I banged my arm on a trash can.

  It was a good thing I'd decided to wrap my arm, because I felt a pop and knew that the tiny bite had broken open. Pain shot through my arm, but I did my best to ignore the agony. We arrived home and I unwrapped the bandages. I cleaned the wound and redressed it. The next day, I wasn't feeling well and stayed home while my fiancé took our nephew to the third day of Comicpalooza. Later that evening I unwrapped my arm to clean it and was horrified. The wound had become infected. It was red, swollen and boils had formed. The bite itself was almost black. I called my mom.

"I think we should go now and have it checked," my mom insisted when I told her about the bite.

"But I still have one day of the convention left."

"Is it more important than your health?" she asked.

"No, I just don't want to sit in the emergency room only for antibiotics," I said.

"It sounds like you might need more than medicine," mom said, and she was right.

  It turned out that the spider bite had accumulated a staph infection,

"Possibly from the tire of your wheelchair," the doctor said. "It's not uncommon for people in wheelchairs to get them on their arms, especially if they touch the tire as often as yours do."

  He'd noted how my arm grazed the tire every time I push myself. After lancing and draining the fluid from my arm, I was given medication to take at home. Five days later at my follow up appointment, the wound had not improved and I was admitted to the hospital (on my birthday) to receive IV antibiotics. Test were done to determine if the staph infection had reached my blood or bone; fortunately it had not.

"Peter Parker gets bit by a spider, he becomes Spider-man. I get bit by a spider and get staph. Reality is so lame," I lamented to my fiancé.

"You should tell Stan-Lee," he laughed.

  I wasn't too upset really. I did everything I'd really wanted in the first two days of Comicpalooza. It was merely frustration at having to miss things I'd spent money on, and spending my birthday hooked up to an I.V. Fortunately my fiancé and some family came to visit, but for the most part I was just plain bored. I spent three days in the hospital, though it felt like a week.

Isn't it beautiful? Photo taken while waiting in the ER

  Upon release I was tasked with taking care of the wound, which was two holes in my arm. For the first week my mom cleaned the holes and packed them with medicated gauze. Eventually, I was able to take over and after two and a half weeks my arm was healed enough to stop packing it, but I still needed to cover it with ointment and gauze.

After the first cleaning - I have craters!

  A little over a month later, after my stay in the hospital, my arm finally scarred over. I still rub ointment on it when the skin gets dry. Also, I went to the store and bought some socks and made sleeves to wear anytime I am in my wheelchair. I've started designing different styles which I intend to make for myself and others who are in wheelchairs. My best advice to any reader who is in a wheelchair: Make sure your arms are protected and wash your tires, because that was not a cool Ramp Life experience.

My awesome new scars!