I waited to share this story until I was sure no one was reading…so two weeks ago, I went out for an easy Monday afternoon run. I believe I was running four miles at a 1/2 mile run, 1/4 mile walk intervals. I was about a mile in, about half way though my second 1/2 mile interval when a bee attacked.
What? a bee?
Not a big deal for many I’m sure, bee stings seem like a pretty common thing. I’d never been stung by a bee and was unsure if I was allergic, as I have strange reactions to a number of things. My last allergy test was deemed unreadable as I reacted to the saline. Now, I choose to think the nurse perhaps contaminated the saline, but the doctor decided I wasn’t actually allergic to anythjng despite the hives all over my back. He then prescribed an epi pen. Needless to say, I won’t be going back there.
I’m not allergic to bees, at least not in a major way, according to this most recent attack.
Why then am I telling you this?
The bee, it didn’t just sting me. (To be fair it could have been a wasp, we have a lot of those around.) It launched a full frontal attack.
I went around the corner, after a short hill and inhaled through my mouth. Now I don’t run around with my mouth hanging open, but it’s often open just a tad, usually my teeth still pretty closed. Except when I inhaled, extra deep to settle my breathing, so,etching hit my lip and I sucked it right into my mouth. My initial response was to try to spit whatever buy I inhaled out before I swallowed it, and I kind of smacked at my mouth unconcerned. I brushed the insect out of my mouth and had no plan to even slow down. Then the pain started.
Terrible pain.
Worse pain than when my eardrum rupture on a plane.
I reached up again, and felt something in my tongue. I scratched at it and pulled out a stinger. By then the pain was so intense, tears were streaming down my face. My tongue was swelling and my face was going numb.
I turned around and started texting Artboy to come pick me up. A cab, that I hadn’t even noticed, started honking at me to cross street. I wasn’t near the corner, but he was waving me, so I crossed. I didn’t want to cross. I was crying and holding my mouth, trying to text. I think he thought I was playing Pokemon.
By the time I was picked up, I’d already vomited once. I was drooling. Everything hurt.
I told Ricky to call and find out if I needed to go to the ER. Instead of calling any of the emergency medical lines associated with our insurance, he calls my doctor. My doctor who is off on Mondays at a clinic that closes in four minutes. Hold. At this point, I’m vomiting and my whole face is swollen. Hold some more. I epi pen myself as my throat starts to swell. After some more holding, he’s told to take me to the ER, which I could have told him 5 minutes earlier, around the time I epi’ed myself, but he’s dedicated to getting an answer from the clinic.
My throat never swelled all the way, although it felt like strep throat. My ears hurt. My face was numb. My tongue was huge. I vomited a few more times and then just settled into the pain. I was kept under observation for a few hours to make sure I wasn’t allergic and the venom was working its way out of my body. I didn’t die, but I was sent home with pain pills and told to take benedryl.
I’m probably not allergic to bees who don’t sting my tongue.
It’s almost two weeks later. The swelling comes and goes, but the actual sting spot is still prominent and my tongue feels necrotic. That is the only word I can use: necrotic.
I started running again a few days later. Yesterday, a bee flew at my face and got inside my sunglasses.
I think the bees are out to get me.
