Stung

Last night I went outside to talk with two of our neighbors as they were walking by. Cathy and her husband Steve were out for their regular evening stroll around the loop. Cathy had suffered a brain aneurysm two years ago, and had a job interview earlier in the day. I hurried outside to see how it went. As we talked I felt a sharp pain in the back of my left knee. I thought, "That almost felt like a sting." I nonchalantly moved my hand to that area of my leg and looked down long enough to see a yellow jacket drop to the ground.

I casually continued the conversation, while rubbing the back of my leg every few seconds. I had noticed that Steve was wearing a Phish t-shirt. I told him I was reading Aron Ralston's book, Between a Rock and a Hard Place––Aron Ralston is the man who amputated his own arm with a multi-tool after it was lodged against a canyon wall by a boulder. Steve and Cathy are hikers, and I let Steve know that Aron was listening to Phish during his hike and throughout his ordeal. Steve began talking about a book he was reading. It had something to do with cavers who descend blindly into caves. The thought of "I am allergic to yellow jackets and I wonder if I am going to pass out or die," unfortunately began tuning Steve out.

I have passed out multiple times before after being stung by a yellow jacket. And, after each sting the reaction becomes worse. When we lived in Grand Rapids I was getting venom injections in the case I was stung again.

I came inside and got the epinephrine pen ready––just in case. The cold sweats came, just as they had in the past before I would collapse. But, I think that this time it was just the adrenaline of the not knowing what was about to happen. I waited it out to the 20 minute point. Good. Then the 30 minute point. Still good. If nothing had happened by then, I was golden. Was there still enough venom in my system to ward off the sting? Maybe! Just glad I didn't have to go through the scariness of going unconscious this time around.