Oh, Irony. I see what you did there.

This is NOT the welcome wagon I was expecting.

Welcome to the DR, JP!

Picture this: My roomie Nancy and I spent a solid 2 hours in the sunshine. Rotating, re-applying sunscreen (talk about an exercise in futility, currently crispy and pink), gabbing the day away, reading US Weekly scholastic textbooks. All that good stuff. And, since I dream of living some sort of reverse-Little Mermaid experience, I knew I needed to get into the tepid ocean water to swim around like a fish. I collected perfect conical shells, I did handstands, I floated like a buoy, I ran out to Nancy proud of my discoveries and demanding a water-buddy. She obliged, wanting a dip herself.

Moments later, she was marveling at the brave manner in which I drag my feet around in the ocean trying to pick up any bits of coral or shell my toes can feel. I commented “Yes, obviously I’m very courageous. Not just anyone could/would do such a heroic deed.”

Cue: Sea urchin. Yup, stepped on a sea urchin within thirty minutes of diving into the deep blue.

Human crutches

I thought I could “walk it off” assuming the best, maybe an under the sea splinter. And then, as we went to go grab a bite, I felt a blinding searing pain best described as being stabbed with a metal rod. Only the rod is being heated at a near-melting degree from the inside and continues to radiate pain.

I need a doctor.

“Sure,” said Nancy. “We’ll find you one, just sit tight.”

What is happening?!

Enter Dr. Delarosa. Exit: dozens of tiny sea urchin spines. Apparently, my body had an allergic reaction to the spines and WHAM, inflammation, a pain like a thousand tiny spiny suns, and a hazy vision.

Slightly less searing pain? Yes, please.

I expected that, if I was going to be doing any hobbling whilst on vacay, it would be due to inebriation from the all-inclusive drink situation. I did NOT expect to receive an intramuscular injection of anti-histamine in my butt cheek. I did NOT expect to be a wobbly fool due to a spiny critter of the sea.

According to the resort, sea urchins never swim that close to the shore. Well, joke’s on me, I guess. Good one, sea urchin. Had me fooled.

Luckily, the benadryl and lotion they gave me are making a dent in the pain. And my starvation is pulling me in the direction of the dinner buffet like WHOAH. So, despite the best efforts of the ocean’s porcupine, I can’t be stopped. Nice try, little one.

I’ll make sure to eat extra Uni next time I get sushi.

(Also, big ups to Nancy for recognizing that, though this was a terrifying experience, the ONLY reasonable response was to take zillions of pictures.)