Nov 7, 2007

As If I'd Be Done Complaining About This

So. The Beesting.

It occurred while backpacking. Boy and Girl had such a splendiferous time that we decided to go again, and this time take along Boy's Awesome Friend. BAF is sweet, smart, and easy-going. She rules.

The hike itself was great--again, since the kids were so excited, Guy got all excited, and went out and bought them real live hiking gear. They have matching boots, and Boy has an honest-to-goodness internal frame pack. Which we loaded the hell up, let me tell you. BAF marched along, laughing not complaining.

We got to camp, and Boy and Girl ran down to the water to go throw rocks at it. BAF, this being her time camping, stuck around to watch Guy and me set up the tents.

Guy fed me a pole, and as I was inserting it into the sleeve, I felt a poke in my pants.

"Hold on a sec." I reached back.

"Come ON," Guy said impatiently.

"Um, it's a bee." I did not panic. "There's a bee in my pants."

Guy scrambled across the flattened tent and fished the bee out of my pants.

Now, you would think that would be the end of it. But no. Guy is talented. He somehow managed to get the bee out of one pantleg AND INTO THE OTHER. WHERE IT PROMPTLY STUNG ME.

Then I panicked.


I jumped up and tried to take off my boots so I could take off my pants. Guy tried to take off my pants. I fell down. I stood up again, Guy got my pants down.

I glanced up to see BAF staring at my bare ass. Stupid thongs. I should really stop wearing the damn things.

But then I felt the bee crawling around my ankle and returned to panic. OFFPANTSPANTSOFFNOWOFFFUCKFUCKFUCK.

BAF elected to go discreetly down to the water to throw rocks at it.

After the pants were off--and promptly stomped on--I calmed down. Our First Aid Kit was somewhat depleted, and we didn't have Benadryl, or really anything at all. But, while it twinged slightly, the beesting felt fine and I was able to walk, sleep, and hike out the next day without a problem.

Until. When we returned home on Sunday, I took a much-needed bath. And it made the beesting insane.

Besides turning red and splotchy, it also became hard and puffy. And over the course of the next two days, it doubled in size. And turned purple and veiny.

And hurt. A Lot.

Suffice it to say, I seem to be allergic to beestings. I have an Epipen prescription in my purse. Which is, you know, almost as good as actually having the Epipen.


Guy said...

Perhaps it's time to get the prescription, uh, you know--FILLED. And that photo doesn't do justice to the way it looked by day 5--it was way worse!

By the way, I'm still sorry for knocking it into your other pant leg.

Anonymous said...

how horrible. just grin, bear it and keep writing your fabulous blogs.