I was on a journey up a mountain (Andean-like). In the beginning I bumped into a bush that shot thousands of tiny painful thorns in my thighs and ass. I was with someone I knew. We went to the shaman doctor who looked at me for a minute, then disappeared. We waited for a long time, me alternating between sitting and standing in excruciating pain. The shaman didn’t return. Finally I started pulling the thorns out myself. My legs were welted with red and black spots but happy to be thornless, and I knew they would heal. We started to leave but the person I was with said it was too late to continue up (it was 6pm). They didn’t want to go. I went up the mountain alone.