The Chronicles of Medic Bob

So Small, Yet So Deadly

Individual Summary: One of the boys is allergic to something. As in......deathly allergic......But no one had any idea until they're on-air, in the middle of the show, and they suddenly start going red in the face and gasping for breath......

*****

Before the show had begun way back in 2002, Bob - as the head medic on the crew - had made a point of getting a list of everyone's allergies, medications, and medical history (within reason). He always made sure he had a well-stocked medical cupboard at the clinic, full of the necessary emergency equipment he might need on very short notice, as well as the usual dressings and bandages that one might use on a less serious injury.

Among all of this, in his locked drug-safe, were a stash of epi-pens. 

These epi-pens - used in the case of a severe anaphylactic reaction - had never been used in more than 15 years (although Bob made sure to replace them before the start of each series, just in case).

However, during the 2018 series, that was about to change.

Some of the crew had allergies that they didn't even know about - ones that they found out rather by accident while working, in the canteen, or just wandering around the bush. Some found out that they were allergic to bees and wasps, others to certain plants.

But none of these reactions had been any worse than a localised skin reaction, therefore not requiring the use of the epi-pens.

Even the boys themselves had been the victims of a few minor allergic reactions - mostly to the plants that lined the paths into camp and into the trial clearings.

But, after the preparation for a link involving the boys went a bit south - thanks to a sudden gust of wind that had sent their cue-cards into the jungle undergrowth - Ant had spent the two minutes before they'd come back on-air searching through the bushes to find their cards.

Letting out a triumphant "Ah ha!" when he felt his fingers close around the card, he pulled out of the shrubs with a big smile on his face, not noticing the little arachnid he now had for company.

The tiny, pale, eight-legged parasite immediately burrowed happily into the skin of its host, and began to drink greedily.

They went back on-air, and things progressed fine for the first thirty seconds or so, until Ant became distracted by an annoying itch on his right forearm. Scratching it absent-mindedly, he continued along with the script, scratching more furiously as the itch increased.

Dec sent him a sideways frown, eyebrow twitching just slightly upwards as a questioning look took over his expression.

Ant forced a smile onto his face and pushed his arm down by his side, clenching his fist to keep from scratching.

It didn't work, and as soon as he'd said his line, he was back and scratching away.

But this time, his nails forced the tick to dislodge slightly, and - in reflex - it spat out some of its toxins and proteins through its saliva.

Within seconds, the toxins had started to spread through Ant's bloodstream, and his immune system was kicking up a right fuss at the sight of them - releasing inflammatory mediators in excess, and forcing his body's regulatory systems into overdrive.

On the outside, Ant had started to realise that something wasn't quite right: his chest felt tight - like it was being squeezed by a sumo wrestler - and each breath was getting harder to draw in. His face felt hot, yet there was a cold sweat that was starting to form along his upper lip and on his forehead. He could feel his heart racing, and he started to feel vaguely sick in his stomach - as if he was just moments away from throwing up.