People say that you should never tempt fate, and this is something that I may have inadvertently done, in writing Wednesday’s blog, about the girl with the spider hoody.

Yesterday afternoon, I was lying in bed,  following an enjoyable few hours spent downstairs with Claire and Roman.

Back in bed, my feet were getting hot, so Claire offered to take my socks off. Thank goodness she did, otherwise what was about to happen could have been a hell of a lot worse…

It was when my wife removed the duvet in order to get to my feet, that she screamed and jumped backwards, away from the bed.

It was clear to me what had scared her, and it wasn’t my smelly socks…

In the past, Claire has spotted what she believed to be spiders, only for her to realise that she had simply seen a bits of fluff.

However, this was no bit of fluff. This was a real life, running, biting, fire breathing spider. OK, I didn’t see it breathing fire, but that’s not to say that it couldn’t.

Small details aside, there was a large spider in bed with me, right next to my leg. A SPIDER IN FUCKING BED WITH ME!

I won’t apologise for swearing. This is my #MeToo moment. A spider was in bed with me! Nothing gave it the right to be there.

My natural survival instincts kicked in and I did what any grown man who values his life would do. I shrieked like a little girl.

When somebody’s life is in danger, it is said that they react with a ‘fight or fight’ response. Prior to my scooter accident and being confined to bed, I would have done just that.

Fight. That would involve me destroying the spider with a tin of bug killer. Either unleashing chemical warfare, by spraying it with poison, or literally hitting the beast with the tin itself, until it became a crushed mess.

“Bring it on, Spidey!”

The flight response would be a safer choice, which would simply be a case of running away and hoping that the spider would have died of natural causes by bedtime, when I would require the bed again.

With my current health situation, neither ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ were an option. I only have ‘shriek or screech’, both of which I immediately put into action.

All the commotion must surely have been heard by our neighbour and possibly even by people in the street. Given how I was screaming like I was being brutally murdered, I am surprised nobody phoned the police.

Come to think of it, what if I was being murdered? What if Leatherface, from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, turned up in my cul-de-sac and started hunting down Leeds fans? A fat lot of good my neighbours would be!

Downstairs, Roman had certainly heard our screams. Claire informed me that he was looking rather scared. I would like to think it was concern for his human parents, but doubt that very much.

Have you noticed that there has never been a TV show about a hero rabbit? Lassie – a dog. Flipper – dolphin. Skippy – kangaroo. There’s a reason for this…

Given the amount of love we show Roman, it’s a shame he didn’t help. Upon hearing our screams, he could have leapt from his run, ran up the stairs, jumped onto our bed and using his back legs, stamped on the spider. Honestly – I have more chance of being saved by a Giant African Land Snail.

Anyway, I digress…

When Claire ran out of the bedroom, in search of a glass to capture the unwanted guest, I seriously considered rolling out of bed to escape. I was aware that this would have resulted in more broken bones, but this was a case of desperate times, desperate measures and all of that.

I can picture the look of amusement on the faces of everyone in the hospital, when I would tell them how I had seriously injured myself because of a spider!

No doubt my story would be told by consultants at fancy dinner parties for years to come. A junior doctor would mention me in his autobiography. I would even end up trending on social media.

“Broken bones in Sideroom K. Found a spider in his bed, which frightened him away!”

Thankfully, I didn’t have to roll onto the bedroom floor. My heroic wife captured the bed monster, using an empty tube of sweets. The spider was then placed in the back garden – a far more appropriate location, although I am sure the arachnid would disagree.

Hopefully there will be no more spider blogs for some time.

As a result of yesterday’s incident, I have done something that I don’t normally do. I have put my foot down.

I have insisted that we keep a glass in the bedroom, in case of any further invasions.

Yesterday just showed how important it is to always be prepared for an attack. There was no glass or other means of capturing scary creatures upstairs. Quite frankly, it is lucky nobody was killed.

An important lesson learned.