Well, they weren’t kidding when they said “no good deed goes unpunished.” Last week, I had the misfortune of experiencing that firsthand. It all started when my neighbor’s little chihuahua decided to make a daring escape and ended up in our backyard. Being the kind soul that I am, I took it upon myself to return the furry fugitive to its rightful home.
As I was making my triumphant return, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, I noticed something amiss. Our garbage pail had become a casualty of the storm from the previous night, and it lay toppled over on the driveway. Being the responsible citizen that I am, I walked over to pick it up and put it back in its rightful place. Little did I know, I was about to unleash a world of pain upon myself.
Out of nowhere, I felt an excruciating sensation engulf my foot. It was as if my entire limb had caught fire! I glanced down in horror, only to be greeted by a nightmarish sight. Dozens and dozens of fire ants had made themselves at home on my unsuspecting foot!
Now, if you’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering these diabolical creatures down South, you know exactly what I’m talking about. But for those fortunate souls who haven’t had the pleasure, let me enlighten you. These little devils are pure evil! Not only do their bites feel like hot needles piercing your flesh, but as if that wasn’t enough, you’re then blessed with itchy blisters that make poison ivy seem like a walk in the park. Yes, I kid you not.
In that moment, my brain went into overdrive trying to process the sheer horror unfolding before my eyes. I was in full-on freak-out mode, desperately trying to rid myself of these relentless attackers. I kicked off my sandal and started slapping away at the ants as if my life depended on it. Normally, even a single bite from these sadistic creatures would send me sprinting to Urgent Care for a steroid shot and all sorts of medical wizardry, considering my severe allergy. So, once I managed to free myself from the ant assault, I bolted upstairs and thrust my foot into the sink. I vigorously washed away the invaders and, in a moment of desperation, poured rubbing alcohol over my foot (it was the only thing within reach!). I then dialed Kyle, my trusty companion, in a state of panic as I watched my foot balloon in size. He calmly advised me to soak my foot in Epsom salt and chow down on some Benedryl, which I promptly did.
When Kyle returned home, he came over to inspect the damage. After giving my foot a good once-over, he announced that he was off to the store to get a potato. Now, in my Benedryl-induced haze, I wasn’t exactly following his train of thought, nor did I possess the energy to care. You can imagine my utter astonishment when he reappeared shortly after, clutching a plate of shredded raw potatoes (resembling hashbrowns), a paper towel, and a plastic bag. He wrapped the potato-filled paper towel around my foot, encased it in the plastic bag, and sealed it with tape. At this point, the swelling had only reached the top of my foot, and the Benedryl overdose seemed to be doing its job. Kyle instructed me to sleep with the potato concoction on my foot and see how things looked in the morning.
When I awoke the next day, I gingerly removed the potato-laden bag. Oh my goodness, you wouldn’t believe what I saw! The swelling had significantly subsided, and the incessant itching was nearly nonexistent. I could finallysee the individual bite marks, and to my horror, there were a whopping 20 of them! Those little demons had attacked my toes, wedged themselves between my poor digits, and even took a stroll on the top of my foot.
I continued with my potato treatment for the next couple of days, and I must say, I couldn’t believe the remarkable results. In between potato sessions, I slathered on some Benedryl cream and popped a Benedryl pill, but only at night to avoid turning into a groggy zombie during the day. The crazy thing is, I never developed those pesky little white blisters that transform itching into an Olympic sport, tormenting you for what feels like an eternity. Within a day or two, I was nearly back to my normal self! I mean, I’ve never experienced such a rapid recovery from a fire ant attack, not even with the help of those infamous steroid shots!
A few days later, curiosity got the better of me, and I asked Kyle where he came up with the wild idea of using potatoes. He casually mentioned a video by Barbara O’Neil, and naturally, I had to share this life-saving hack!
If you’re interested, here’s the link to Barbara O’Neil’s Home Remedies Video. Now, if you don’t have the time or patience to watch the whole thing, fast-forward to the 35:14 mark, and that’s where the potato poultice part begins. Trust me, it’s a game-changer when it comes to dealing with those devilish fire ants!
So there you have it, folks. A heartwarming tale of a good deed gone wrong, a foot under attack, and the miraculous healing powers of shredded raw potatoes. Who would’ve thought that a humble spud could be a hero in disguise? Next time you find yourself in a battle against fire ants, remember this strange yet effective remedy. And always beware of the unexpected perils that come with being a good neighbor!
