Swarm!
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| Fall is in the air. So are the bees. |
Just as I thought I'd escaped the swarm, I felt a prick on my left wrist, under the cuff of my jacket. I pulled the cuff back, and there it was: a plump bee of some kind--not a honey bee--was stinging me. After two or three attempts, I managed to brush it off. The stinger was still there, so I pulled it out immediately, thankful that my fingernails are currently a little longer than usual. Then, I quickened my pace and headed back to my car, using the most direct route.
In the past, when I've been stung, I've experienced a lot of swelling and other long-lasting symptoms, and I've been told by my doctor that I might need to head to the emergency room "the next time." I really didn't want to do that today. I took comfort in knowing my inhaler was in my jeans pocket, just in case my breathing became an issue and, as soon as I reached my car, I took some Benadryl and drove home, trying not to notice the increasing pain in my wrist.
By the time I got home, my wrist was red and a little swollen, and quite painful. I made a paste of baking soda and water, and applied it to the site of the the bee sting. I was surprised how much that eased the pain. Unfortunately, the paste dropped off in clumps as it dried, so I made more paste and reapplied it a couple more times. Then, after I ate some lunch, I took some more Benadryl and gave in to the sleepiness it caused; I took a nap.
When I woke up, I found that most of the swelling had gone down, and the red had faded to pink. It looks like I can avoid the emergency room this time. What a relief!
More than a year ago, my daughter, Meagan, decided she was going to raise honey bees. She researched and read books about the whole process. She talked to other beekeepers. Finally, she ordered a bee box and some bee gear, including a protective bee hat and, of course, some bees. When everything arrived, she and Tobin assembled the boxes and installed the bees in their new home. Everything was completed successfully.
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| Tobin's beekeeping gear |
But last fall, while working with the hive, a couple of bees made their way inside of Meagan's bee hat. She panicked, flinging off the hat. It was the wrong thing to do. Several bees took that as a threat, stinging her on her head, neck, and face. She was miserable for days.
So Meagan ordered a full bee suit. She and Tobin took turns wearing it while caring for the bees. But, one day, their bees swarmed. That is normal bee behavior. When the population of a particular hive expands too much, some of the bees may split off to form a new hive. Meagan talked to beekeeper friends, and even invited one man over to see if he knew what to do to contain the swarming bees, but none of the suggestions worked. It wasn't long before several bees attacked Tobin, stinging him on his face, which swelled up tremendously.
It seems that both Meagan and Tobin have inherited my sensitivity to bee stings; Bill, too, has experienced significant swelling whenever he has been stung, so it seems natural that Meagan and Tobin should exhibit similar, strong reactions. After Meagan learned that each successive stinging episode is likely to result in worse swelling and pain, she decided that beekeeping isn't worth the risk. She gave her entire beekeeping set-up, bees and all, to a friend who promised to keep her family well-supplied in honey.
And so, Meagan's bee-keeping venture ended more quickly than it had begun.
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