Wednesday, September 08, 2010

I might be a pod person

It began innocently enough, a flea-sized itch on the back of my ankle as I stood in the parking lot of the taxi stand waiting to be taken home after a Wednesday night out with co-workers on the town in Yongmun. And let me tell you we paint that scanty smudge not even located on most maps in Korea glaringly crimson when we go out. The street people cower in the darkened alleyways each and every Wednesday night from our debaucherous outings. Well, it's less of a cower, and more of outright stares or laughter at the curious foreigners eating ridiculous amounts of chicken. We might be loud, but no one even comes close to the ridiculous drunken adjuches (old man) on a subway singing sloppily to no one but himself or the the business man lying flat from intoxication on a sidewalk still adorning his suite from the day.

But I digress. I got a bite on my ankle. It wasn't anything to write home about. The mosquitoes in town believe I am the most deluxe buffet in Yongmun. A treat not to miss. And in fact, they (along with other venomous creatures) are about the only thing I can put on my list that I truly would not like attention from. I like attention in a variety of forms, but mosquitoes, spiders, rattlesnakes need not fear hurting my feelings from inattention.

Thursday, the bite swelled a bit, not abnormally large for the "mountain mosquitoes," just bigger than what one would expect from a bug back home. I was assured by a Korean it was just one of their "special" mosquitoes with extra venom that caused the swelling to spread to a two inch circumference. Besides the hugeness of it, there was still nothing truly aberrant. The itchiness was at it's normal grade. It wasn't hard or extremly painful.

Thursday evening however, I brushed my hand against it accidentally and noticed a roughness I hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, I observed small blisters forming around the central area of the bite. I should mention that I have become extremely diligent in my purposeful act of not touching or scratching an] bite. I found some years ago that if I didn't touch a bite, the itchiness wouldn't linger quite as long. I mention this because someone asked if my scratching had caused the bizarre turn in events that unfolded next and I can guarantee that scratching was not the cause. I found the small blisters strange, but didn't worry too much. After dinner, we sprawled out on the couch to watch a few downloaded TV shows. "Dexter" is our newest favorite. After an episode, we turned on the lights and to our horror, the blister had grown exponentially into what looked to be a grosteque piece of artwork by a disturbed artist working in 3D and raised liquids. The pressure and pain had begun to increase from the start of the evening.

Unsure of what action to take, I slept carefully, keeping my leg as still as possible. In the morning it was evident that it had mingled with it's blister buddies in the night and compounded into an even larger water balloon sticking out from my leg 1/2- 3/4 of an inch. I was drastically aware of this disgusting growth on my leg. I felt deformed like a newfangled hunchback. I was sure everyone was staring at my leg and silently pointing and laughing.
"What if your a pod person?" someone asked after nearly fainting from viewing my yellow blister. "What if it continues to grow until it takes you over and you become an entirely new pod person Vanessa?" they continued
"That is a serious concern." I responded, "but what if it's just an alien who has decided I am the protype alien host. I wonder how I good of a mother I could be to this alien child? I hope it doesn't eat me!"

Jokes flew about in this manner. It turned out, according to the Korean doctor who burst the blister, that it was an allergy. It was definitely not a mosquito bite, but whatever it was did not agree at all with my blood. The wound is still healing, but the blister is gone.

In the dark crevices of my mind, the thought that I might be hosting an extraterrestrial being still saunters quietly. If I begin to speak in tongues unknown to you or behave in a stranger manner than usual, I give you my permission to submit me to Area 51 for observation. Only time will tell.

Thursday evening

Friday morning

I couldn't stop staring at it!


Bekah said...

Oh dear Lord. That is...that is...well...Im glad you are okay.


mrphd said...

"Stranger than usual"


How would anyone... uh... notice?

(Love you, dear, even if you are an alien-host-mother.)