Posted by: canthold | August 4, 2009

My First Bee Sting

I’m not sure how I got through these adventurous 38* years without a bee sting, but I have. It’s odd, but true.

Until today.

I was walking my dog up some stairs and there were a few yellow-jackets swarming around. I kept walking through, thinking – as has always worked before – that if I don’t bother them, they won’t bother me. I was actually even thinking about the one time the dog got stung . I had to practically dislodge the bee from his fur. And now it was my turn.

Before I knew it, I felt a little prick on my arm, then another one. (It was on the sensitive inner part of my upper arm. ) I swatted at it and had to actually dislodge the darned thing from my skin. It was small. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, except that it couldn’t have been anything else. It all happened so fast.

As I finished walking up the stairs, it started to hurt more and more. While I thought that it had stung me twice, I could really only detect pain from one spot. Faced with the decision to go home and lick my wounds or keep going, surprisingly, I kept going. The sting I felt kept me from noticing how hot it was, how I forgot sunglasses and hat, and how jeans were the wrong choice for pants.  When I got home after all that, my arm had turned red in a giant circle around the sting, and at the site, had swollen just a little. A second spot had turned a small circle of red, confirming a second bite.

It hurts. I’m more fascinated by the phenomenon than the pain, though. Intrigued by the experience. Strange.

Well, I’ll cross that off my list of things I’ve never done before.

 

*Nearly. I’m actually planning on turning 38 for my 42nd birthday coming up in September.

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Responses

  1. Ouch. I haven’t been stung since I was a child.

    Campbell got stung last summer when he tried to pick up a bee at the pool. He’s never done that again.

  2. Oh, and my mom celebrates anniversaries of her 50th birthday.


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