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At that point, I left the mower in its tracks and made a mad dash to the house where I was dancing around, swatting, and hollering like a crazy person. I'm sure it was a hilarious sight, but there was no one there to witness it. There was some momentary concern since I'd just been stung three times, and I'm somewhat allergic to honeybees. What would yellow jackets do to me? Hubby was working so the only person to look after me was me. Isn't that when most stuff happens? A bee flew past my head, I shrieked and flailed some more. Afraid there might be more on me, I yanked off my T-shirt and threw it on the floor, charged through the house and back, picked up the shirt - no bees, put shirt back on.
I tried to e-mail hubby, but I didn't have my glasses and my fingers weren't working too well, all that shaking going on I guess. I grabbed the cell phone instead, and pushed the quick dial number...it's ringing. I looked down and saw that there still bees on my pants. Freaking! Phone off, pants off inside out, left lying on the kitchen floor with one dead bee still attached. I charged back through the house for more pants.
Sometime in the midst of all that commotion, I had the good sense to swallow a Benadryl. With all this racing around, I was out of breath, huffing and puffing like a freight train, so when I got hubby on the phone, it took a couple of minutes for him to get the whole story. Hubby: "I'm leaving now." Me: "I didn't call you for you to come home, I just wanted you to know what happened." Hubby: "I know, but I want to be there".
Now for the first aid - I made a paste of meat tenderizer and water to neutralize the pain and swelling (which, when compared to honeybee stings, was relatively minor). Hubby asked me to call him every 10 minutes as he drove home to make sure I was all right. Needless to say, I didn't finish the mowing.
Have you tangled with these little nasties, and how did you fare?