Yesterday was not a good day for me and critters. First there were the lap dancing squirrels that fell on me. Then, last night around 8:30, I was taking a ride at Umstead ...
I had about a half hour left in my two-hour ride at Umstead, when —
Now, I have a pretty high tolerance to pain, except when it comes to bees, and one had just stung me in the neck. I knew immediately: the sharp pinprick, the radiating heat, the lasting bad vibe of that sharp pinprick. I soldiered on one, because I was in the middle of the park, I had no choice, and two, because I'm usually fine within a half hour. Usually.
When I got back to the car, though, I noticed my arm pits and another region were unusually itchy. I wrote it off to prickly heat from the ride. But when I stopped for coffee at a Starbucks and, for whatever reason, tried to squinch my eyes my brow right above the bridge of my nose wouldn't budge. No wrinkle, no nothing. Then I noticed my feet were itchy, my head was itchy, my sides were itchy. Itchy, itchy, itchy!
I made a beeline for home where, before I could even get out a "Hi, honey," Marcy blurted, "Good heavens, you're covered with hives! Get in the shower, I'm getting some benadryl."
I've been stung dozens of times over the years — that line about "Don't bother them and they won't bother you?" Hooey, pure hooey. Evil bees, evil! — and never suffered more than the intense sting, which I think I mentioned I'm pretty wimpy about. But as Marcy was feeding me itch-relieving, sleep-inducing benadryl, she told me that you can go for years without having a reaction to such things. At some point, though, your body may decide, "That's it, I've had it. I'm outta solutions — you handle it." Thus, I can count on turning beet red and itching whenever I'm bit.
"Start packing benadryl when you go out. You might even need to carry an EpiPen." By my confused dog cock-of-the-head 5 think she could tell I was thinking of epistick, the fast, effective way to remove unwanted hair. It's a needle device used to ward off anaphylactic shock, she explained shortly before the 100 mg of benadryl did its sleep inducing thing.
Squirrels, bees ... I think I'll stay inside today.