The previous spring I’d lived
for almost two months with my girlfriend in Rio de Janeiro (where she was
attending school on a scholarship). Elizabeth and I were co-workers at Rock
Creek Lodge over the course of five winters. The two of us had been close
friends there but only became a couple shortly before she flew to Brazil. We
were very much in love—the first time I’d experienced being in that…state…and
was sure she was “the one.” So it came as a tremendous shock when I called to
welcome her home after she returned to the states that July—and to make plans
for our future together—but find that, not only had Elizabeth experienced a
“change of heart,” she had a brand-new boyfriend as well. I fell into a severe
depression that laid me low for months. Under the circumstances, it was a bad
idea to be all alone with my brain, deep in the woods. But, there I was…seeking
solace in the wilderness from my cats, horses, and Mother Nature.
13 Sep (Mon)
Woke up bad. These have been some of the worst days yet. Funny how it
comes and goes…well, easy to see why, actually; I’ve gotten real down each time
we’ve “communicated” by phone and each time I’ve written. Better when not brooding
and endlessly rehashing. Perhaps I’m near the end of this, almost over the
hump. Sure hope so. ◦◦◦◦◦ Re-read last night’s long letter to E. Bad idea. By
10:00, after choking down some food, I had a splitting headache and made four
runs (literally) to the outhouse. Maybe ate something bad? Or just turmoil?
Dunno…but I was out of it. Spent the day in bed reading Claudius the God. A bunch of folks with Nevada Backcountry Horsemen
showed up in the yard (I’d talked to one of their party yesterday) and they
yelled for me but I climbed up into the loft and hid there, lest they peek through
the window and see me in bed. Just couldn’t face anybody…not human. Finally, they
left. ◦◦◦◦◦ Headache finally eased off late in the afternoon so I had a bowl of
soup and walked, pretty sore between the legs. Went out the front gate and
started contouring to the north, to the next ridgetop and down into the Secret
Vales. Went to that cliff where the baneberry grows (the only place I’ve found
it growing in the entire region). The nice red berries already almost gone.
Amazingly, the yellow lodgepole pine pollen that coated everything, starting back
in July, still hasn’t washed away and it’s clumped on leaves and is a spotty
varnish on the rocks. Never seen that before…seems
like ages since it rained. ◦◦◦◦◦ Back to the cabin at 7:00, starved. I’d
brought up a steak. Haven’t been eating much meat; mostly I can only handle
lighter food but knew I had to eat the thing so decided to make a fire. Started
it and was breaking little branches off the downed tree there in the yard (which
is right by the firepit). Suddenly I
heard a serious-sounding buzz and something came up off the ground, made a
beeline for my skull, and hit me on the right temple. Red-hot needle to the
face! Yah! It was a meat bee—I’d probably disturbed a nest under those dry
branches. (They’ve been bad this
summer.) ◦◦◦◦◦ Knew I was probably in a little trouble; I’ve had bad reactions
from stings before and this one hit me hard,
a half inch from my brain and an inch from right my eye. I ran to the cabin and
ransacked my 1st aid kit, dismayed to find it contained not so much
as a topical antihistamine. I have pills for just this sort of thing but
they’re IN MY TRUCK! And I couldn’t see—I’d instinctively swiped at the wasp
and my glasses flew off but I didn’t even notice and kept looking on the
shelves and table for where I’d set ‘em down. (Finally figured it out and went
to get ‘em.) ◦◦◦◦◦ Oh, well! Nothing to do but let the poison work! So I went
out, rebuilt the fire, and after some coals built up BBQed my steak. But within
minutes I began to feel “funny”…began to itch. Stood up and paced around, feeling
all anxious and weird. In half an hour I had huge patches of hives on my left shoulder & buttocks and smaller
ones all over. My lips were numb and eyelids swelling…hands and ankles swelled
and my peepee puffed up like a sausage with scrotum bright red plus hot &
itchy. For that matter, my whole chest was also flushed. But no problems
breathing so I wasn’t too worried.
Ate my dinner (steak only) and went straight to bed. ◦◦◦◦◦ Woke up in the middle
of the night to take a leak and could feel that my face was grotesquely
swollen. Very dark, no moon, and I fumbled for my “piss bucket”—old Rock Creek
tradition—which is a half-gallon corn oil jug (with the top cut off but handle
still on) which was tucked under the edge of the bunk. I reached for it,
standing in the dark mostly asleep in socks and T-shirt only, and while I was
going, began to feel cold & clammy. ◦◦◦◦◦ The next thing I knew, I was on
the floor…coming to. Hunh?? I thought I was still in bed at first but slowly
began to sense that, wherever I was, it was cold…and hard…and wet. Propped myself up on an elbow,
realizing I’d passed out. No idea how long…but probably only seconds. Stood up,
grabbed my flashlight and was dismayed to see the pissbucket lying on its side
with a large puddle spreading across the floor. (There’d been almost a quart in
it before I started.) Still mostly asleep, I grabbed a huge wad of paper towels
and sopped it all up before collapsing
in bed. Fell back asleep almost instantly.
14 Sep (Tue)
Woke up with my right eye completely shut. The entire right half of my
face was obscenely swollen—thick, pasty pads of flesh over my temple & jaw,
thick rolls of puckered flesh around the eye. Also, oddly, I had severe
swelling on top of my left shoulder
and in my left armpit and below it; very little swelling on the right side.
Hives gone and genitalia back to normal
but achy all over like with the flu. Pretty severe. Needless to say, this was a
day of “sick leave” and—again—spent much of it in bed. Napping off & on all
day, body really fighting the poison. Tried to read my book but found it hard
to read with only one eye. Thank goodness I didn’t itch like last evening!
Awful! A few years ago, when I got stung that first time on the back of my hand,
the itching (which lasted three whole days) nearly drove me mad. It was truly
agonizing. ◦◦◦◦◦ In the afternoon, caught up in this log. My eye had opened
just a bit by then. It’d been cool & real
windy all day, very much an autumn preview. Wrote on the porch until it got
too dark, moved inside and built an evening fire for the first time in a long
while. I need a bath. I need something. Low tide in Tim’s life.
15 Sep (Wed)
Up at dawn, eye swollen shut again and all crusty but it soon opened a
little. Swelling on my face worse than
yesterday, my right cheek more of a jowl. Swelling down on shoulder and under
arm and my body felt much better.
Amazing how thoroughly poisoned I was by that tiny insect. ◦◦◦◦◦ At 11:00 I
walked up the Kirkwood trail. Did a very thorough rocking (tossed hundreds of
pounds of stone off the trail) and cleaned waterbreaks, wide & deep. Much
shovelage. Worked to the giant white pine, just about exactly half way to the
pass. Thankfully, no visitors. ◦◦◦◦◦ From the high point, took a cross country
route home, first following the west bank of Kirkwood Creek through the
thickets of lodgepole, then cut across Rainbow Creek and, finally, Tower Creek.
While crossing the final section of glacial washout I spooked another wasp
nest! Got hit twice on the left calf. Still had a mile to go and walking felt
like I had two needles imbedded deeply in my calf with the shifting muscles
grating against them. Of course, the leg swelled up, but not too bad. That does
it: only long pants & long sleeve shirts until it snow or rains. Earlier,
I’d passed a huge nest right by the
trail. It was under a rotting log and I think a bear got into it and shredded
the thing to get at the larvae. I could see the walls of the nest, dozens of the varmints going in &
out. Made me shudder to watch ‘em and think, What if….
16 Sep (Thu)
Classic dream of Elizabeth shortly before waking: we were standing
together in an utterly dark room, with light on us, before a full-length mirror. I was behind her, with some body
contact, and I was trying to reach her
somehow, wanted her to turn and face me—look me in the eye—but she wouldn’t and
all I could see was her reflection, an image, and she was gazing off with a
knowing, Mona Lisa-ish smile, as if she knew the answer to some secret. No
words. And I took her hand but she wouldn’t meet me palm-to-palm. I held it
like an object in my fingertips…heavy and lifeless and completely unresponsive.
Truly classic dream symbolism. Added a postscript to my last letter to E,
telling her this dream. I’ll mail it off and hopefully, now that communication
is over, I can start focusing on getting myself back in one piece.
It
wasn’t until some time later that I really understood that I’d been in a pretty
severe clinical depression since July after I made that fateful call to “the
tall blond.” For two solid months I’d been a complete wreck—couldn’t sleep or
eat at times; developed a strange, chronic peeling of the skin from the palms
of my hands that left them continually cracked and raw. There’d been a few days
at the cabin where I couldn’t get out of bed and lay there, staring at the
ceiling. A few friends who knew were worried about me—with good reason. Something
about the crisis with the wasp sting brought the whole phase to a culmination
and, following the vivid and powerful dream about my ex, I started to mend….
Went to the doctor a couple of days later and he said I’d had a genuine
“anaphylactic shock” reaction, which surprised me since I thought that entailed
having the throat swell up. With a grave expression and tone he said that what
had happened to me was quite serious. Apparently, I looked skeptical because he
followed with, “I can see on your face that you’re taking this lightly. But let
me assure you: you could easily have died that night.” From that time on, I
always carried an “epinephrine pen” with me, just in case. Never had to use
it—subsequently, I’ve been stung several times but never had a severe reaction
again.
©2015 Tim Forsell 1 Nov
2015
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