Bee Sting

Everyone knows I’m accident prone – if there’s a patch of ice, hole in the ground, low hanging branch, piece of wood with a nail, or exposed wire – count yourself lucky, I’ll find it before it hurts anyone else. I couldn’t produce a list of accidental mishaps to save my life, I wouldn’t know where to begin. Breaking them into categories might be easier – number of times I’ve been hit by a drunk driver , given myself a black eye, slipped on ice, broken toes or fingers running into things, cut myself falling on or breaking glass, mishaps while walking the dog, accidents at work, and my latest category – bee stings.

I spotted the bee under my bedroom window – most nights it would have meant scooping up and releasing it outside. I can’t say if it was the heat, glass of wine, state of exhaustion or combination of factors, for whatever reason –  last night I stomped on bedroom bee, nary a thought other than  vacuuming in the morning. I went to bed without a single bee on my mind.

My first thought was nail or tack – still half asleep and headed for the bathroom, making sense of the pain proved difficult. I couldn’t see anything in my foot, back in my bedroom it became clear – carpet bee had waited in ambush at the foot of my bed. A perfectly reasonable circumstance – the one and only time I strayed from capture and release, the bee walked six feet across the floor to the exact spot I stepped out of bed.

It’s been decades since a bee sting assault, the pain came in relentless waves, each one more powerful than the last. The initial sting hurt, much like a sensation of stepping on something sharp. As the venom spread that changed to a strange throbbing burn, an oddly disquieting pain gaining intensity by the minute. Back in the bathroom, running my foot under cold water helped a little – not enough to muzzle outbursts of agony. Limping back to my room and Goggling first aid remedies was futile. I found a site listing home remedies in order of effectiveness. Number one was applying meat tenderizer – are you kidding me? Next came vinegar and baking soda, ice packs, cortisone cream, and ibuprofen for swelling and pain. I drank a glass of wine.





25 thoughts on “Bee Sting

      • I see “Karma” for lack of a better word, as something within all of us rather than some outside influence or force. Conducting yourself with dignity and respect pays dividends, blatant disregard for others eventually kicks you in the ass. As for bringing people together, pointing people in the right direction or seemingly random circumstances – good karma allows us to recognize possibilities because our minds aren’t clouded with self serving nonsense. Bad karma arrives when lousy behavior prevents us from seeing beyond ourselves.

        I believe everything happens for a reason – none of them external. Each of us reaps what we sow, end of story. We found each others blogs because we recognized a moment in time leading to our friendship. If we had bad karma, that opportunity would have been clouded, hence passing without notice and lost forever.

        Does this make any sense?

  1. Glad to see you found the correct antidote to your problem, sorry you had to waste so much time Googling for a cure. 😉
    Oh and that karma thing, got into a debate with brother last week, told him Karma was a Buddhism thing. Not that Buddhism is a bad thing but?

  2. Oh My. I can’t remember the last time I got stung. All our family/friends freak out about bees and get stung, I just sit there and let them fly around me and never get stung. I think we have a peace-pact between us — the bees and me.

    I do like your first aid solution. Like many ‘home remedies’ it’s applicable to many situations of physical and emotional discomfort — and a heck of a lot better than tenderizing yourself! Then again, if you drink enough wine you might just accomplish the same result.

    When we come up to visit you and hoist a glass remind me to check for flying critters in advance of selecting my place to sit. 🙂

    • Bees don’t bother me in the slightest – my Dad kept bees, I’ve been around them all my life. I used to love it when his bees swarmed – we watched from a distance as he went to work wearing nothing for protection other than a beekeepers hat thingy and using a smokey bellow contraption to send them on their way. He converted an old wringer washing machine tub into a device extracting honey from the frames – we took turns at the handle – watching honey drip from a spout never got old.

      People who swat, lash out or run away from bees are just asking for it.Don’t worry, it’s safe to hoist a glass with me – I wouldn’t have been stung if I had just followed my usual response of capture and release. Besides, when people are with me they never have to worry, it’s a given I take any mishaps for the team 🙂

      • Yep, you nailed it – the sacrificial lamb I am 🙂 Truth be told, you’re perfectly safe with me, I’ll take the fall with nary a whimper and a minimal amount of outrage or complaint.(my husband might say otherwise)

        My Dad’s honey extractor was the coolest! He fashioned supports in the drum to hold frames from his hives, drilled a hole for the spout and centrifugal force took care of the rest.. With almost no effort we turned the handle – in a minute or two honey started dripping into a small bucket. If we were lucky, he gave us bees wax to chew. Anytime I see honeycomb for sale at farmers markets I smile. 🙂

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  4. I am allergic to bee stings – thank goodness i haven’t been stung since childhood – but believe it or not, making a paste of the meat tenderizer does work.

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