Itsy-Bitsy? I don’t think so.

I dislocated my shoulder trying to kill a spider.

With a flip-flop.


It was only very briefly, and not like, a full-blown, screaming pain, movie-style, have-a-shot-of-alcohol-and-1-2-3-clunk dislocation. I was fortunate to have an appointment already scheduled with my physical therapist the following day, so I figured I’d just talk to her about it. She confirmed my suspicions and advised me that this was what is called a subluxation, where the shoulder is not completely out of the socket, just sort of, half-way.

Here’s what happened…

First of all, let me say, both Princess Punk and I are afraid of spiders. This is actually a well-deserved fear since at one point in Florida, the house we were living in was infested for about 3 months. INFESTED.

Did you know that exterminators can do nothing about spider infestations short of tenting the house? Apparently, since so little of their icky little bodies are close to and surface they may be skittering across, any type of poison application is pretty much useless. So we had to endure it for a few months until they “moved on” or whatever it is that spiders do.

I got bit. Princess Punk got bit. TWICE. I woke up more than once with 1 or more spiders crawling on me. Like my face. EWWWWWWW… I doubt The Princess remembers consciously, she was only 2 years-old at the time, but there’s definitely a rooted subconscious phobia in there. When I say phobia, I mean a true phobia. Not a squealing “Ohmigod a spider! Heeheehee…” but a full-blown, hysterical, banging on my door at midnight, panic-attack kind of phobia.

Which is what happened.





(weeping and sobbing dramatically) “Mom, there’s a spider in my room by my bed, I’m really scared, Mom PLEASE!”


(true hysteria sets in) “MOM! I’m not going in there I can’t it’s a huge spider PLEASE MOM PLEASE!!!!”

The Zen Master is PTFO (passed the fuck out)

~sigh~ “Okokok… Chill out, I’ll get it.”

So I go into her room. Navigate my way over to her bed in the direction she is pointing with a shaky hand.

There is a spider next to her bed. It is… Large. Not huge. There have been bigger spiders found in this home. Just big.

It skittered.


So I grab the nearest slapping-type thing (a flip-flop), and attempt to smush the offending creature. In doing so, I put my knee on Princess Punk’s desk chair which (I forgot) swivels. Since her room is a mess, I find myself swatting at this thing around clothes, books, a shin guard… I dunno, it was midnight.

And then I reached too far. And the chair swiveled and I slipped. And slammed my shoulder into the arm of the chair.

I heard it. Kind of a gross clickcrunch. Then, because I hadn’t actually realized what I had done, I put both hands on the chair to push myself back up to a standing position.


I screamed. It hurt SO bad, but was over in an instant. But then I couldn’t lift my arm without this tearing burn and I went to bed with a bag of frozen peas.

The Zen Master killed the stupid spider. With a beer bottle. Swear to God.


Sling for a few weeks then some strengthening exercises and then avoiding situations that could cause reinjury. Which is damn near impossible with The Peach within a hundred yards of me.


Great story for a party right?




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