21. A Hellish Encounter- rattlesnake bite PT.1

I'll start by saying that the power of prayer is resounding.

This isn't my typical blog post, and while an account of the event is supposed to be cathartic, I am sweating profusely and my body shakes as I type this. I never imagined that we would be able to call on the world's army of prayer warriors. I'm still in awe of His Glory.

Late Monday evening, after the monsoons cooled the pavement, I took my extended family on a leisure walk through the meandering path of an abandoned golf course. Armed with only a black-light flashlight, we were hunting for bark scorpions (they glow green under the purple light).

I assured my brother's girlfriend, who flew in from Germany, that bark scorpions are harmless. "Their sting is no more than a bee sting. It's rattlesnakes you have to really watch out for,"

Off we went into the cool dark night keeping to the path until we reached the wash. For those of you who, like my husband, are not from the desert regions, a wash is essentially a soft sandy riverbed without water. When the rains come they flood and dry again rather quickly.

I instructed my family to stay on the path as I explored the drainage tunnel and the sage brush. With over 20 years of living in the Sonoran Desert I consider myself an expert desert navigator; always conscious of the dangers around me.

I returned to the wide paved path after an unsuccessful search where my 3 year old Sylvia asked me to pick her up. I gave her a piggyback ride for a time before she asked to be set down again. The group paused for a while and debated if we should give up the search after two partial sightings. Meanwhile little Sylvia sat down on the curb to pour sand from her shoe. I announced that we decided to turn back and she began to cry.

It wasn't an unusual cry. I assumed she just needed help putting her shoe back on. Or maybe she was worried about being left behind when everyone turned to go. I casually approached her and tried to sooth her crying and noticed she was limping. Not unusual for a barefoot babe in the desert. Maybe she stepped on a cactus. I crouched to inspect her foot as she still held her shoe in her hand.

Three small puncture marks bled from the top of her foot.

The triangle shape was strange. It could be from a cactus. But the perfect spacing rang a bell in the back of my mind. I scooped her up in my arms and returned to the curb where she once sat. In a tight coil at the end of the curb was the faint silhouette of a baby rattlesnake.

I didn't second guess my eyes in the dark. I yelled "Snake! She was bit!" and started running towards home alone. The group didn't have time to grasp the situation. They all stood in shock and confusion. My 8 year old daughter who had been standing beside Sylvia and the snake, began to panic and ran hot on my heels. She chased us up the hill crying as I gasped for breath.

The hill to escape the wash seemed twice as tall as it did on the way down.

Knowing that most snakes hatch in a clutch I stomped my feet loud as I ran. Adult rattlesnakes rattle when they are alerted to your vibrations.

I had enough time as I ran to contemplate if I had made a mistake. Maybe it wasn't a rattlesnake as I initially believed. There was no warning rattle and there were 3 punctures, not two. I'd never seen any other kind of snake in our deserts and prolonged crying was enough for me to not take the risk of pausing any further.

A rattlesnake bite can be deadly, especially in a small child whose blood was pumping so quick. Adult rattlesnakes often 'dry bite' to conserve their venom for actual prey; baby snakes do not. Adult rattlesnakes give a distinct warning when you come too close, baby snakes do not. Like most animals, rattlesnakes rarely attack unless provoked or threatened, baby snakes nearly always do.

I couldn't run anymore. My body felt like it would give out if I tried. I slowed to a trot with my heart wrapped up in the 30lb bundle in my arms. I told my 8 year old to run ahead to get help. I later watched the gut-wrenching doorbell footage of her screaming for help in the courtyard followed by the men emerging from the house.

I was at the car now yanking on the door handle and yelling for them to get in the car. Within a split second she was buckled in her car seat and my dad was pulling out of the driveway barefoot. We were lucky, the nearest hospital was no more than a ten minute drive with traffic.

They made it there in three.

The next five minutes were the longest minutes of my life. The men were headed to the hospital and I was left alone with Lana in the wake of chaos. I told them to go without me so I could gather some essentials. I paced back and forth through the courtyard as each time I tried to get into the car I remembered something else I needed to bring.

Wallet, insurance cards, and jacket.

My phone, and the water bottle from the kitchen counter.

Lana paced several times behind me until I recognized the need to slow my attention to the present. I hugged her and told her to go inside with Grammy, who was just now walking up the driveway with Eleanor (10).

I calmly escorted them into the kitchen and hugged both my girls. They held back tears and I reassured them that Sylvia would be ok. "She's going to the hospital where they have anti-venom. The doctors will save her and she will be back home soon. I love you! You have to hang out with Grammy for a while and I'll see you soon,"

Purse, Keys... and the tablet thats on the floor next to the door, for Sylvia.

I raced to the hospital saying prayers the whole way and driving faster than I should have. My tires squealed as I parked in the first available spot. It was not conveniently located to the front door so I ran towards the double doors of ER entrance. I turned the corner to the automatic door and a good size tarantula ran towards me as they opened. It startled me for a split second then I rolled my eyes and said audibly, "You've gotta be kidding me,". I leapt over the oversized spider and rushed to the front window which I found vacant. I rang the doorbell and waited for an eternity within a minute. A woman in purple entered the scene and I put on a brave face.

"My husband just brought in our three-year-old with a snake bite," I said winded.

She directed me through the double doors to room # 2.

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