So, I’m allergic to bees. I happened to find this out one Summer whilst sunbathing on a beach in Carlsbad. I got stung near my armpit and the next thing I know I’m having heart palpitations. Of course I didn’t really do anything about it…I had my boyfriend at the time pull the stinger out and then once I felt normal again, I went for a swim thinking the cool water would feel good on my arm. Unfortunately, the next morning my arm was swollen and purple and in pain. Off to the doctor I went (where I got a lecture for not appearing in his office sooner) for a shot and some antibiotics.
The next summer, whilst laying on a beach in Oceanside, I again got stung. Knowing full well what would happen, we left the beach and went home where I convinced my parents that my heart wasn’t in any danger and I was just going to wait it out. So I waited until my leg was more like a purple tree trunk and then proceeded to go to Urgent Care. Same routine–shot and some meds. Apparently I’m not allowed to have a “Bee Sting Kit” (as my dad calls it) because my reactions are different every time and generally localized severe allergic ones–so it’s not really that big of a deal.
On my way home from school today, I’m flying down the 78 with my windows down, singing along to whatever happened to be playing on my iPod when I drove through a swarm of bees–what they were doing in the middle of the 78, I will never know. I thought I had gotten through the swarm without any hitchhikers, but I was wrong. A few minutes later a bee buzzed by my head and then flew down to my legs. I immediately started freaking out and swatting at it while swerving all over my lane–I temporarily forgot I was even driving. I gained enough composure to see the bee fly up my dress which is when I frantically started mashing up the skirt of my dress in an effort to kill the thing before it stung anywhere near my delicate lady parts; all while driving. I practically had the entire skirt of my dress in a wad at my side. I pulled into my driveway, turned off the engine and just sat there unsure of what to do next. I thought to myself,
” What if the thing is still alive in there somewhere? If it is, it’s probably pretty pissed and I’m going to end up in Urgent Care again. Maybe if I slowly unravel my dress? Maybe I should try and slip this dress off and just run to the door in my undies? Ugh, sick, there are probably bee guts all over. Jeez. I really don’t want any swollen limbs. Or worse, a swollen vagina! I’m leaving for San Francisco tomorrow, this is not happening.”
After a few more minutes of contemplation, I slowly and carefully unraveled my dress, only to find there was absolutely nothing there! No bee, no bee guts. What the f?! Oh well, better than getting stung or having to wash bee guts off of my dress. But now I keep getting the sensation that there is a phantom bee crawling on me. Even as I write this, I feel like it’s crawling on my arms, legs or back. Paranoia.
Poor bee, I probably traumatized it.
**UPDATE: After further inspection in my truck, I found the bee. Dead, near the gas/brake pedals on the floor. I either stomped on it or gave it a heart attack. Either way, RIP little bee.