(Lethocerus americanus)*: Giant water bug

Photos taken by ScienceNrrd on 10.08.09

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I was in line with friends to play mini-golf, when I saw this really cool bug crawling around.  It was huge!  To the annoyance of my companions, I picked it up for closer inspection.  This thing was awesome.  It forelegs were enormous, and it had large beady black eyes so big, I could see my reflection in them.  Not for long, though - the creature did not want to stay put.  I turned my hand a few times, watching it as it crawled around trying to escape to the safety of the ground below.  It managed to jump off one hand, only to land on the other; I was quick, too.  Shortly after, I let the bug go and watched it scurry away under some plants.

After our game, we stopped at the ice cream counter (first one to get a hole-in-one buys!) and while my companions were busy ordering their cold, sweet, sticky delights, I was busy ogling another one of these giant insects. 

"Hey guys, look at this - here's another one, and it's almost as big as my hand!"

"Is it dead? You're gonna keep it aren't you?" someone groaned.

"Shyaah, I can bring it into my parasitology class.  I want to know what it is."

I showed my professor my photo, only to hear “You didn't hold a live one, did you? It was dead, right?”

I recounted my inspection of the first insect. “Wow, you are lucky. Those things bite, and they bite hard. It really hurts, and you can't just shake them off.”

It turns out that those enormous forelegs are sizable for a reason.  Water bugs diets consist of just about any small animal they can manipulate, from insects to salamanders to small fish and even frogs.  Grasping their prey with their powerful forelegs, they pierce it with sharp sucking mouth parts, injecting it with paralyzing fluids and digestive juices that turn the prey's insides into liquid, which they then suck out.

Water bugs are among the largest insects in North America, with some reaching sizes of over 2 1/2” long. They are aquatic insects, found in slow-moving streams, ponds, lakes, and wetlands, near vegetation.  They breathe air through a breathing tube on their abdomen, and many species swim with an air bubble while under water.  They have large wings and can fly, often flying to lights at night, earning them the nickname “electric light bug”.

Serious reactions to a water bug bites are rare, but they are very painful, and can cause the area to swell dramatically.  Handling live water bugs is not recommended for this reason.  I was spared the painful experience, thankfully, as that would have indeed put a hamper on my swing that evening.  And as a mini-golfer, I already stink!

When my professor heard that I had collected a specimen for further examination, he excitedly asked me to bring it in next class.  I did, and our lecture for the day opened up with information on this insect.  And now I have another addition to my “eyes only” table.  The glass top, the pull out drawer, the lizard skull, the iridescent dragonfly, the hatched turtle eggs, the monarch butterfly, the lunar moth, the papery wasp nest...

*******

Sources:
1- http://www.eduwebs.org/bugs/giant_water_bug.htm
2- http://www.uky.edu/Ag/CritterFiles/casefile/insects/bugs/giantwater/giantwater.htm


*In proper form, scientific names of organisms are typed in italics or underlined when written. As this blog's format does not allow for either in the blog post title, I have put the scientific name in parentheses.

Photo taken by ScienceNrrd on 10.08.09
Click on Photo to enlarge

Red and Yellow Kills a Fellow

Photograph taken by ScienceNrrd on 8.11.09 

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I remember the time I was bitten by a copperhead.  Thinking the snake was dead, I nudged it with my foot as it lay on our driveway, basking in the hot Texas sun.  The snake moved slightly. Intrigued, I knelt down to get a closer look at it.  Thirty minutes later, I was in the hospital.  I survived the bite, and gained an immediate and immense respect for snakes.

I came across this snake (pictured above) a few months ago, and knew immediately that it was a Texas Coral Snake, one of four venomous species in Texas, and one of two major coral subspecies in the United States, most of which reside in southern and southeastern areas of the country.  Coral snakes are venomous snakes which can be identified by their bright red, yellow, and black bands.  They are often confused with Kingsnakes or Milk snakes, harmless copycat snakes which have similar banding.  Learning the different types of snakes, their habits, and how to deal with a bite can be very important in areas where encountering one is not unlikely.  A trick to identifying a coral snake vs. a copycat snake is this mnemonic device: Red and yellow kills a fellow; red and black, you're alright, Jack.  With coral snakes, the red and yellow bands always touch; the red and black bands do not.  With copycats, the opposite is true (this is generally true with most corals, although not with certain corals of Central America).

The coral snake, Micrurus fulvius, belongs to the family Elapidae, which also includes the mamba, cobra, sea snake, and taipan.  Corals are smaller snakes, growing up to two and a half feet in length.  They are diurnal (active during the day), and favor leaf piles and rotting wood in dense forests or sandy, marshy areas. Their diet consists of lizards, small bird eggs, frogs, and smaller snakes.  Baby corals hatch at 7” long, and are fully venomous.  They are generally shy, reclusive snakes, and will not bite unless provoked – as was my copperhead friend, whose bite was certainly justified!

The venom of a coral snake is a neurotoxin, meaning that it attacks the nervous system.  Quick treatment is important, as after 8-10 hours, antivenin (“antivenom”) is ineffective.  Because it is possible for symptoms to show up as much as 12 hours after a bite, it is necessary to assume that envonomation has occurred with any bite.  When bitten by any poisonous snake, it is important to remain calm, as this will slow the spread of venom and onset of shock.  Keep the bite area below the heart, and wash the area and remove any tight-fitting clothing or jewelry.  Never take aspirin or alcohol, as this will speed the spread of the venom, and never use a tourniquet or slice the skin to suck out the venom; these outdated methods are highly dangerous. Try to ID the snake or look for distinguishing markings, if possible.

Although coral venom can be highly dangerous, fewer than 1% of snake bites in the US are from corals, and there has been only one reported death (2009) due to coral venom in over forty years, since coral antivenin became available.  Contributing to the high rate of survival is the snake's size and means of venom delivery. Corals have small heads and mouths, and their fangs are a mere 1/8” long, so in order to inject enough venom into a human to cause death, the snake would have to chew on it's victim repeatedly.  Still, the best thing to do if you encounter one is to admire its beauty from a distance.  Take a picture.

This is great common sense advice I did not heed when I was seventeen.  As I stared over it with interest, the ophidian creature flung its lithe body onto my hand, which hung lifelessly over my bent knees.  The solenoglyphous fangs punctured my skin, and I flung my arm wildly in an attempt to rid myself of the intense pain.  But the snake clung tightly, injecting more of its venom with each shake of my hand.   

Rejecting a neighbors...kind offer to apply a tourniquet and suck out the venom, I ran away to show off my cool snake bite, holding my hand up for everyone to see. I spent the next four days in the hospital with my hand and arm swollen from the tip of my middle finger, the site of the bite, all the way up to my armpit.  Drifting in and out of consciousness, I seemed to awaken at poignant times – to the doctor telling my mother that my arm was swelling too rapidly, and that if it didn't slow down, I might lose my finger. Then, that the swelling was slowing down, but not enough, and they might have to cut my finger open to relieve pressure.  Each time, I fell asleep as soon as I heard these bits of frightening information, the doctor's voice trailing off in a venom and drug induced haze.  I'd awaken periodically, checking frantically to see if my hand was still intact, or if I had been transformed into Mickey Mouse's right-hand girl.  At one point, a doctor came into my room and blew up a latex glove. Holding it up next to my hand, we both stared in amazement as my hand, skin stretched more tightly than seemingly possible, dwarfed the balloon.  Had the skin on my hand burst open like an overripe tomato, I think neither of us would have been shocked.  As scary as it was, once I was out of danger, I realized that I had become irreversibly enamored of snakes.

I was very, very lucky, as I did several major things one should not do after a snake bite. On the other hand, being seventeen, I was still invincible and so had no problem remaining calm. And en route to the hospital with no one to show my bite, I remembered my education and kept my arm down.

Can you tell which is the coral snake and which is the milk snake?

12

Try to figure it out before you look!

...

The snake on the left is the coral snake: 'red and yellow kills a fellow'

The snake on the right is the milk snake: 'red and black, you're alright, Jack'

........................

Sources:

1- http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/reptiles/eastern-coral-snake.html

2- http://www.houstonherp.com/Coral.htm

3- http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/learning/junior_naturalists/safesnake.phtml

4- Neutralization of two North American coral snake venoms with United States and Mexican antivenoms. By: Sánchez, Elda E.; Lopez-Johnston, Juan C.; Rodríguez-Acosta, Alexis; Pérez, John C.. Toxicon, Feb2008, Vol. 51 Issue 2, p297-303.

5- Death following coral snake bite in the United States – First documented case (with ELISA confirmation of envenomation) in over 40 years. By: Norris, Robert L.; Pfalzgraf, Robert R.; Laing, Gavin. Toxicon, May2009, Vol. 53 Issue 6, p693-697.

6- Photo 1- http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2562/3808908417_5c960bfcac.jpg

7- Photo 2- http://www.reptilesweb.com/images/stories/Snake/pueblan-milksnake-2.jpg

Curiosity, the Backbone of My Education

Photograph taken by ScienceNrrd on 9.20.09

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I have this condition - it's called Curiosity Won't Let Me Leave Anything Alone.  I can't just see or hear about something I think is cool, I have to go look at it, touch it, or take a picture.  I don't photograph people very much; I don't find that to be very interesting, but put me outside with a camera, and I can't stop!

As a child, I loved bugs.  Anytime my mom found one in the house, it was I whom she'd call to take care of it, shrinking back in disgust.  "See, mom?  It's just a spider," I'd say, incredulous at her apparent fear of something so small.  I remember digging up countless earthworms with my neighbors and sisters.  We'd cut them in half, or slit them midway down the body to the end, so they were forked like a snake's tongue. Earthworms regenerate.  Everybody knew that.  Or at least, we did.  How we came to such a conclusion is something I cannot answer, but there we were, splitting the worms open, "It's going to grow two heads, side-by-side now.  We can dig it up later, like in a few days, and it will have two heads!  And that one over there will have a head where the tail was, and that other one will have a tail where the head was!"  Two-headed worms, worms with heads at both ends, tails at both ends.  We were confident.  We never did find any of our regenerated creations, but we continued to dig regularly.

I've never outgrown this child-like curiosity, and it popped up in its latest form just a couple weeks ago during that trip to Nantucket.  I had planned to stay home, as I had too much homework to finish.  "Look," my friend begged, "I'm not going to Nantucket alone to fish by myself.  You have to come!  I'll bring my laptop, the B&B has a computer you can use, and there's a library if you need it.  Just come.  You can do your work at the beach while I fish, I won't disturb you."  Now if my grades are any indication, I am intelligent enough, and I can tell you right now that if you have someone begging you to go to Nantucket and who will provide you with the means to get work done whilst there, should you have much work to do, go, I say, GO!  And go, I did.  I had two marvelous days of writing in a charming little room at a quaint B&B on a quiet street lined with a rainbow of botanic pleasures.  Door and windows open to the breeze and the calls of the gulls, my fingers moved rhythmically to the pulse of the distant waves.  Bearnt bearnt beardearnt bearnt beeeardearnt! - my phone pulled me out of my trance.

"Catch anything, yet?"

"Nope, but I found something."

"What?" I asked, my mind still on my work.

"I think it's some kind of backbone."  Instantly, I am alert and attentive.  Nothing like the phrase I think I found a backbone... to get me hanging on your every word.

"Really?" I ask.  "What is it from?  Is it clean?"  I am very curious, and what I really want to say is bring it back, but I'm too embarrassed.  I mean, I don't want people thinking I collect roadkill or anything, right?  I know it's not the same, but...

"I don't know, but it's big, about eighteen inches long.  And, yeah, it's picked pretty clean."  And here it comes: "Want me to bring it to you?"  Oh, sweet friendship, someone knows me this well and doesn't knock me for it!

Later that afternoon I am admiring this cool, salty puzzle, though against my better judgment it gets bagged up for the evening.  Stinking up the next morning, we take the vertebrae back to the beach.  "This is where it belongs," I point out, "but I have to photograph it first, so that I can find out what it is."  I spend my last minutes before the ferry comes blaring by for us gently studying, posing, and photographing my model with care.  Session over, we head for the ferry where I continue writing; a new thought, a new phrase, with every lilt of the boat. Answers will have to wait.

Now, however, it is investigation time.  To what organism did this structure belong?  Bony, my companion called it, though I felt it was more stiff and papery, reminding me of the texture of the inside of a lobster shell. Perhaps cartilage, though not quite the 'give' that one would expect (from drying out in the sun?) and very lightweight.  At one end were two stiff, hollow curved pieces, about 5" long.  I am on a mission to identify the owner of the vertebrae.  Skate, fish, small marine mammal?  This is what I hope to find out over the coming days and weeks.  Ideas anyone?