My wife Monica was re-organising clothing cupboards in the bedroom while I was pottering in the garden late yesterday.
Suddenly she let out a scream the volume of which warranted at least a very large snake in the bedroom. I dropped everything and ran. So did she. We met in the conservatory, with her screaming hysterically “this spider has just bitten me!” On the front of her dress was this nasty yellow scorpion, looking pretty aggressive.
Under normal circumstances I don’t kill wildlife, but these weren’t normal circumstances. I slapped it off her and converted it to a Bushman rock painting on the quarry tiles. Monica was in hysterics, holding her arm and screaming with shock and pain.
The fact that the scorpion had small pinchers and a thick tail wasn’t good news at all. These little buggers are dangerous and pack a very nasty sting.
Administering anti-venom is only contemplated in infants and frail geriatrics. A liberal dash of Voltaren gel, systemic anti-histamine and some pain killers did the trick.
And, of course, lots of TLC.
World-wide some 800 people are killed by scorpions annually.
In the Western Cape scorpions of the genus Parabutus are the worst, and as far as my limited knowledge goes this one belonged to the genus Uroplectes. A little better, but bad news all the same.
Jip, Africa sure isn’t for sissies.
