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Jun. 12th, 2005 06:36 pmHuh. So that's a bee sting.
I'm biking to the store, and something small banged against my helmet, as things often do, and I kind of absently wave my arm at it, and then it's on my arm, and it's a bee. And I kind of freak out, like I do, and try to scrape it off of my arm onto my side or something, and then I feel something like a needle pricking me. "Fucker just stung me!" I exclaim, and I scrape it off a moment later. I think when you sound that offended at being attacked, that's a sign that it's not very serious. Also, under the panic and annoyance was this kind of relief, the moment I felt the sting, like 'well, that's one less thing to worry about.'
I pull over and flick the stinger out of my arm; I think it might've been a yellowjacket rather than a bee, because it was smooth and came right out. The pain from the venom itself was like a neuromuscular toxin, like when you work out too much and your muscles hurt. It was pretty bearable, but as minutes passed it grew, and I started wondering if it was going to really hurt, if my arm was going to swell up, etc. About five minutes after that, it had pretty much dissipated. I had a little lump on my arm and a red area, and that was going away, too. The area feels a little tight and stiff. Actually, I got a little high off of it. I'm not sure if it's the toxin or the adrenaline. It's just remarkable how inconsequential it was.
...because when I was a kid, I was mowing someone's lawn, and apparently a bee got me on the neck. I never found a stinger or anything, so again, maybe a wasp or something. I stopped halfway through the lawn, went home, was crying and bawling and carrying on, and it seemed like it hurt for hours. This lawn-mowing thing was getting way too dangerous, just so I could buy Dragon Magazine every month.
I'll probably still freak out when there's a bee flying around me, but I hope maybe I'll be more sanguine about it now.
I'm biking to the store, and something small banged against my helmet, as things often do, and I kind of absently wave my arm at it, and then it's on my arm, and it's a bee. And I kind of freak out, like I do, and try to scrape it off of my arm onto my side or something, and then I feel something like a needle pricking me. "Fucker just stung me!" I exclaim, and I scrape it off a moment later. I think when you sound that offended at being attacked, that's a sign that it's not very serious. Also, under the panic and annoyance was this kind of relief, the moment I felt the sting, like 'well, that's one less thing to worry about.'
I pull over and flick the stinger out of my arm; I think it might've been a yellowjacket rather than a bee, because it was smooth and came right out. The pain from the venom itself was like a neuromuscular toxin, like when you work out too much and your muscles hurt. It was pretty bearable, but as minutes passed it grew, and I started wondering if it was going to really hurt, if my arm was going to swell up, etc. About five minutes after that, it had pretty much dissipated. I had a little lump on my arm and a red area, and that was going away, too. The area feels a little tight and stiff. Actually, I got a little high off of it. I'm not sure if it's the toxin or the adrenaline. It's just remarkable how inconsequential it was.
...because when I was a kid, I was mowing someone's lawn, and apparently a bee got me on the neck. I never found a stinger or anything, so again, maybe a wasp or something. I stopped halfway through the lawn, went home, was crying and bawling and carrying on, and it seemed like it hurt for hours. This lawn-mowing thing was getting way too dangerous, just so I could buy Dragon Magazine every month.
I'll probably still freak out when there's a bee flying around me, but I hope maybe I'll be more sanguine about it now.
