Two days ago my colleagues at the university organized a farewell party for me. The weather was lovely, as it has been for a while now, and I wore shorts and sandals. Most of the guests were from my school, but there were quite a few from other parts of the university, as well. It was jolly. After the party the doctoral students from my school organized a picnic in the grass outside the hall where the party was held. I joined them together with several of my colleagues. The grassy area goes round a largish pond in the middle of the campus. The picnic was jolly, too. I returned home pretty sloshed and went to sleep without much ado. When I woke up yesterday morning I realized I had been eaten alive by mosquitoes. Below knees I looked like someone suffering from bubonic plague. On my right leg I had twenty-four swollen blotches, and on my left leg there were seventeen. They were deep pink in color. The right leg was slightly swollen, too, especially around the ankle. I expected the swelling to go by this morning, but my legs actually look somewhat worse than yesterday. The swelling is still there, but the pink of the blotches has turned into a darker and more menacing shade. On my way to the office this morning I noticed that several people were glancing at my legs in alarm. The plague is back! Sooner or later my legs will be back to normal, but I will probably never make the same mistake of getting sloshed in shorts and sandals so close to a place where mosquitoes are thriving. Nature is a harsh mistress, but it is quite effective, too.

Addendum I (July 13, 2003)

Feeling that things were getting out of hand, but unable to get to a doctor on a weekend, yesterday I went to a pharmacy close to the university and presented my beautiful legs to a middle-aged woman behind the counter. “Oooooh,” she commented at a whisper. The customers in line behind me just shook their heads in heart-felt sympathy. There were chuckles on both sides of the counter when I asked for a medicine that would not interfere with my red-wine therapy, the only effective remedy I had discovered thus far. After a brief consultation with a colleague pharmacist, the woman offered me two things. I got a package of seven antihistamine pills to take one a day, and a cream against insect bites, stings, and itching, which I could apply two or three times a day. This is what I did yesterday while enjoying a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhône, but this morning I saw no great improvement in my condition. My right leg is still slightly swollen, and most of the bitten places are as itchy and sore as before. Tomorrow I may have to go to see a doctor, after all. Although this is my first experience of this kind, as I do not remember being bitten so badly in my fifty-seven years, I am deeply impressed by mosquitoes. Together, the little devils can get the better of a giant like me. Anyhow, the weather Is still balmy, and I am going around in shorts and sandals. The blotches on my legs are now covered with cream, which happens to be light pink. The color probably matches that of an average North-European in the winter. On my sun-tanned legs the blotches look even more formidable than before. Now it is plain that I suffer from some horrendous illness.

Addendum II (July 14, 2003)

I had a feeling there was little a doctor could do for me, but this afternoon I still went to the University Health Center for a brief visit. My main concern was a possible complication just before my impending trip. Indeed, the doctor I saw had little to offer. The antihistamines I am taking are fine. And so is the cream I am applying. Stronger measures, such as injections, are reserved for those who are at serious allergy risk. In addition, the injection would contain the very same medicine as the pills. The only thing to watch for is an infection. Although there was little I got by way of treatment, there was one thing that made the visit to the doctor worth my while. Namely, she had a hunch I was not suffering from mosquito bites. Judging by the degree to which the tissue has been disrupted, another insect is likely to be responsible for my plight. And this made me almost jubilant. After all, I am not such a dunce as to let silly old mosquitoes eat me alive.