The Mozzies Strike Back

aka how I lost my immunity and patience in one painful night.

Now as you lovely people know I've lived on three continents and in five countries (don't it sound grand when put like that?) and all of them have mosquitoes. You can't escape the buggers nowadays. If they're not hanging around your ankles in the pub, they're hanging around your shoulders in the bedroom.

I've grown used to sleeping with the smell of mosquitoe repellent (in fact, 'raid' do a nice flowery smelling one which plugs into the wall socket) and I've always been lucky in that, when bitten, I only get a small bump which disappears within a few hours - my immune system is very efficient.

That was until I met the Argentine Mosquitoe. Mozzies usually announce their presence with that irritating high pitched whine as, indeed, do most Argentine mozzies BUT (and it's a big but) there are silent mozzies here (and I sometimes think they are invisible as well). You'll be there quite happily doing nothing in particular when your arm starts to itch [go on I know you can feel it itching now] and you casually scratch, but when you look down HORROR you are scratching a mozzie bite and to make things worse, you've scratched the head of the bite so it WILL become infected and irritate you for several days to come.

Things came to a head about a week ago. I'd done the usual visual sweep of the room, looking for telltale signs of mozzies, killed one and was feeling good about that. Bad move - I don't know whether it's the smell of blood from the squashed mozzie that attracts another or whether word gets around and revenge is sought. Either way, I'm in bed, just about to drop off when I hear the whine - right by my ear. Action must be taken immediately, out of bed, on with the light, on with the glasses, up with the newspaper. Now where's the bugger gone? Ten minutes later I'm back in bed, cold and knowing that there is a rogue mozzie out there seeking my blood. What can I do about it? Nothing. Thirty minutes later, just as I'm about to drop off, repeat the whole performance. This time I killed the bugger (two nil to Shiralee). Finally I fell asleep and woke the next morning, covered in bites on my hands, forearms and shoulders. A silent bugger! (seven two to the mozzies) and I'd scratched the bites in my sleep.

I'm hoping that the mozzie that made of meal of me has imparted enough of it's poison to ensure my immune system is back up to par and that the only reason I still have those bumps is because I scratched. Do not be alarmed by stories of huge mosquitoes that eat houses - those are science fiction stories only.