Hanoi Bites Back: Mosquitoes 50, O. Zero

The other day I locked myself out of the house. Not too big a problem since Peter and I are usually just a phone call away from each other. Not so this day; he was committed to his schedule for the next few hours. I had no choice but to wait. Well, I suppose I could have gone to a neighborhood restaurant to wait but I was loaded down with groceries and dry cleaning and the thought of trudging back out of our alley with this load did not seem like a good option at the time.

Oh, I was so wrong.

It was probably about 90 degrees and humidity around 85%. There was an occasional squall and I could tell a few mosquitoes were about. I was hot, very sweaty and a bit embarrassed as various neighbors kept walking past me with quizzical looks. Although communication is non-existent, one woman, who lives a few doors down from us, motioned to me to come into her house to wait ( at least I think that's what she was gesturing). A sweet offer for sure, however, she lives in an windowless one room with three young children. I decided to stay outside and hope for an occasional breeze.

By the time Peter was able to get home, I was so not a happy camper. I was even unhappier once I realized that many mosquitoes had enjoyed my legs for dinner.

Both legs look like this front and back.

The first evening was sheer torture; the bites were inflamed and a bit infected making my legs feel as if they were on fire. The only thing I had on hand was Tiger Balm ( that didn't work), then I remembered my Mom using toothpaste on us as kids ( that didn't work either). I finally got up at 2:30 in the morning, sat on the edge of the tub and let cool water run over my legs; that helped for a few seconds. I finally succumbed and scratched the hell out of my legs making them bleed and just feel more itchy.

The next day when Peter heard my sad tale of the previous night, he made me a martini and shared his hydro-cortisone creme with me. Much better now.

O.