bit on the butt by a venomous spider
I've read an account of the very thing (although the victim was only aware of it
ex post facto): Many years ago the distinguished SF
Chronicle columnist [link|http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/carroll/|Jon Carroll] wrote about visiting his local Caesarcare HMO facility during the now fondly remembered eighties, an era of peace and enlightened social and economic policies (measured—only—against the deranged standards of Bushamerica) to have an abcess on his nether parts looked at. Drawers were dropped and position assumed on the examining table. I paraphrase from distant memory.
Medic 1: So, I like your columns.
JC: Uh, thank you.
Medic 1: Yeah, I particularly liked the one—ah, what have we here?
JC: Excuse me?
Medic 1: Very interesting.
JC: Excuse me?
Medic 1: Very interesting. Hey, Fred! Come over here and take a look at this!
JC: Um...is something wrong?
Medic 1: Fred, this is Jon Carroll, you know? The Chronicle columnist?
Medic 2: Pleased to meet you. Hey, I love your stuff!
Medic 1: So...whaddya think? Brown recluse?
Medic 2: I liked the one about—oh, yeah. Unmistakable. I liked the one about—
JC: Pardon me, would that be the "deadly brown recluse?"
Medic 1: Think you and Cathy can make it over Saturday night?
JC: Excuse me, but about the brown recluse?
Medic 2: Oh, not a problem. Listen, that time you called Reagan a "moral midget"...
—and so on and so forth. My kid brother had about the same off-puttingly nonchalant response from Navy medics at Fallon NAS when he showed up for treatment after a rattlesnake bite received at the conclusion of a tennis match.
cordially,
Die Welt ist alles, was der Fall ist.