Reader alert: If you are squeamish, you might want to skip this post.
Yesterday, minding my own business, I was attacked by a killer cactus! Well, the cactus isn’t really a killer (at least, I don’t think it is) and I wasn’t really minding my own business — I was weeding in the vicinity of said cactus, which I think is an Austrocylindropuntia subulata ssp. exaltata. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time this particular cactus and I had had a run in.
Four years ago, concentrating on weeding around another plant, I momentarily forgot about the danger lurking in the neighboring pot and got stabbed in the upper arm. After more than momentary disbelief, I gathered my wits and called on my friend, neighbor, and fellow gardener G for help. He managed to pull the spine out with only a moderate amount of pain, cleansed the puncture site with alcohol (the rubbing kind), gave me alcohol (the drinking kind), and I was good to go.
After that encounter, I showed the Austrocylindropuntia the respect it so rightly deserves. I also admit to having had thoughts of abandoning it on my old apartment’s terrace when I moved last year. However, I was convinced by my moving crew that it should join the rest of my garden on the new big terraza. Though why they wanted to risk its espinas peligrosas, I don’t know. However, I do know, I would have much preferred bringing my beautiful Agave Americana to my new home, but they said it was too big and had to stay put.
That brings me to yesterday’s unfortunate incident. I remember thinking, as I reached in to pull a couple of weeds in the Austrocylindropuntia’s pot, “Go get the long garden tweezers.” But I didn’t, and got stabbed on the back of my right hand (between the knuckles of my index and middle finger) for the trouble. How stupid could I be??? Stunned, I again turned to neighbors — this time, David and Marilyn from Alaska. It was decided I needed professional help, so off to Hospital Molina we walked, me with a four-inch cactus spine sticking out of the top of my hand.
The doctor took me into an exam room immediately. He asked the important questions: “Name? Age? Address? Allergies? Where is the offending cactus located? Do you use pesticides in your garden?” I asked the question that was foremost on my mind, “Aren’t you going to use lidocaine?” “No,” he calmly replied. He then directed me to relax and look toward the window. He had such reassuring manner, I actually did as I was told. He gently felt around the protruding spine and then it was out — and, miracle of miracles, I didn’t feel a thing! He, too, cleansed the wound with alcohol, wrote prescriptions for an antibiotic and a mild pain reliever, told me to apply hot compresses twice a day, and collected 300 pesos ($23.00 US) for the visit. I collected my ever-so-kind neighbors and we went on our way. The phrase, “Do you have insurance?” was never uttered and I was not required to fill out ANY forms!
It’s thirty hours later and I am alive and well. Antibiotic is being taken every six hours, my hand is only slightly swollen, and there is only a little pain. I’m good to go. And I’m thinking, it’s time for the Austrocylindropuntia subulata ssp. exaltata to go. No use tempting fate a third time!
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View From Casita Colibrí 