The dramatization of an otherwise trivial event

I stood on a bee. Not just any ordinary honey bee, an African killer bee. (I’m trying to make this story sound more dramatic than it really was)

Barefoot and semi-naked, I had recently come the conclusion that halfheartedly channeling Jamie Oliver* while clad only in boxer shorts wasn’t the greatest (or indeed smartest) idea in the world. Nothing like a spattering of hot oil in the general direction of your nipples to make you reconsider your life choices.

*when he still went by the moniker of the naked chef.

I had just stepped over to procure my Nelson Mandela apron from its peg when I stood on the errant bee who was non-nonchalantly making his way across the kitchen floor. Until I (violently) ended him and he lashed out in a vicious riposte.

There was the perfunctory utterance of profanity and then I shouted for my wife (as one does) who expertly tweezed the sting and associated poison sac from my foot. (While I lay back on the bed and fought the urge to go towards the light)

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This is the second bee I’ve stood on recently. Prior to that I’d gone twenty years without any close encounters of the bee kind. The last time I got stung (when I was in junior high) I swelled up like a basketball and they told me I was allergic. In addition to this life altering news they said that I should carry round this vial of blue pills (unfortunately not the matrix kind) with me at all times, which would (hopefully) allay my demise. I don’t think epi-pens were a thing back then yet. I lost the vial shortly thereafter but I have been telling everyone since then that I am allergic to bees.

The problem with wondering if you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock is you start stressing about going into anaphylactic shock. Which sounds stupid, but I was fully expecting my throat to close up and choke to death. My blood pressure and heart rate spiked dramatically (a sure sign of things to come I imagined). To cut a harrowing twenty minute story short, I didn’t die. In fact the entire episode was completely self fabricated. Turns out I’m not allergic to bees. Other than in my mind. I think there might be a life lesson in there somewhere.

Sufficed to say this bee sting episode was a lot less traumatic than the previous one. Which was kinda embarrassing.

7 thoughts on “The dramatization of an otherwise trivial event

    1. My wife is a sucker for punishment (She married me after all). Alternatively she is karmic-ly paying for something she in did in a previous life. (must have been pretty serious) I am undecided which I ascribe more weight to.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I’ve heard that many times people are allergic to things as kids and “grow out” of the allergies as they get older. But they don’t know it because they don’t get retested. I also heard it suggested to retest for allergies with a naturopath every 4-5 years, to know for sure. I dunno. Either way. Good to hear you didn’t die. I wasn’t sure until the end there.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know right. I getting good at this whole suspense thing! Does the hero… eh… protagonist survive to fight again… or does he fall at the last hurdle. I should totally write for a living. 😀

      I have heard about ‘growing out’ of allergies and other maladies (like asthma)… but never really consider that. Hmm. You have given me something to ponder. Thanks

      Liked by 1 person

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