Near Death Experience!

Saturday Audry and I were moving rotted wood from the woods into the truck when I was stung on the right shoulder by what we think was a yellow jacket. The sting was just a slight pricking sensation for the first second or two, but quickly grew to be more painful and sting-like, so we went inside after about a minute to apply ice. But within 5 minutes—and over the span of only another 5 minutes—my arms, legs and feet were itching uncontrollably and breaking into serious hives. I was turning red all over.

Meantime Audry called a phone number to reach a triage center associated with my (lousy) health insurance to find out what was best to do for this sort of thing. I had never reacted this way from a bee sting before, and although I was seriously allergic to several bees when I was a kid, I’d been stung a couple times since and not had any more of reaction than a lump at the sting site followed by soreness and itching for a few days after.

But I was DEFINITELY having a reaction to this sting. So Audry hustled me to Matthews Urgent Care and, although there were a few patients ahead of us—including a small boy writhing on the floor and foaming from the mouth and nose—they took me in ahead of him. His problem could wait.

After the prerequisite medical questions: are you allergic to or taking any medications, no; any medical conditions, no; have you had any surgeries, no; do you want these three injections we’re about to stab you with, no; they stabbed me with the three injections anyway.

In the end I was glad for them. One shot of Epinephrine (EpiPen) to stop the reaction, one of Benadryl to continue stopping the reaction, and one steroid to—well—I don’t really know (but I have a prescription for that one). But they worked, and quickly. The itching stopped almost immediately, and the swelling and red skin faded almost entirely by the time we left the office about 45 minutes later.

But I'm used to injections. When I was around twelve I was tested positive for several bee venoms and began getting bi-weekly allergy shots. I had to carry an EpiPen (self-injected hypodermic needle) with me EVERYWHERE to use in case I reacted to a bee sting. Happily, I escaped even a single sting for 20 years, evading the horrifying necessity to jab myself like a desperate junkie.

So now, after being needle-free for decades, I have to carry a new EpiPen everywhere I go.

Life could be worse.