17

Seventeen.  Seventeen is the number of bug bites I found on my left arm after one full day of clinic.  As a matter of fact, seventeen is the number of bug bites on my left arm after a half hour without bug spray, in a short sleeve shirt, and checking the internet the morning before a full day of clinic.  Seventeen.  I can't tell if they're the harbinger of malaria that I fear.  I can't even tell if they are in fact mosquito bites.  I haven't seen a single mosquito in Archaiae.  It's' so dry here I'm not sure where they would complete their life-cycle.  But seventeen erythematous, pruritic papules finely decorate my left arm.  It's not herpes if it's everywhere... Deet baths and long-sleeve shirts, here I come.  Damn seventeen.