Dr. Mantis was not accustomed to making house calls, but the patient sounded desperate.  And apparently, she was a shut-in to boot.  So, packing up her medical bag and making a mental note not to be wheedled into anything like this again, she set off to visit this fellow creature in pain.
    The patient wasn't hard to find.  Just over the hill, under the log, around the oak tree, third bush on the right.  Then a brief climb.  There she was, stretched out awkwardly on her back.
    "So, your name is June?" asked Dr. Mantis as she opened her bag.
    June nodded her inconsiderable head.
    "And what seems to be the problem?" continued Dr. Mantis in her most comforting bedside tones.
    "It's this darn headache," June bellyached. "I've had it forever!"
    "Hmm.  Have you been banging into hot light bulbs?"
    "Ma-a-aybe," said June.
    "And how about windows and screen doors?"
    "Uh, I guess," said June.
    "May I ask how you came to be stuck in this spider web?"
    "Oh, I work for the spider.  Sort of an advance scout.  Tell her when something's coming.  Help entice other insects into the web.  Frightful.  That spider really sucks.  Uh, so to speak.  But a bug's gotta have a job, you know? So, what's the prognosis, Doc?"
    "You have less than 24 hours to live."
    "Oh, dear!  Really?  What's the problem?"
    "You are suffering from terminal stupidity," said Dr. Mantis.  "It's a common condition among June bugs.  Anyway, most June bugs only last a couple of days, max."
    "Doctor, you've just given me a whole new perspective on life," said June. "From now on, I'm going to live every minute to the fullest."
    "So, you can get out of this web here?"
    "Uh, ... no."
    "So, this new perspective on life you've got ... Can you actually do anything about it?"
    "Uh, ... no."
    "Would it be fair to say that you're stuck here, then?"
    "Uh, ... yes.  But my attitude's going to be a lot better!"