Bee Sting

 I am writing a book of stories from my life.  It is called "Grandma's Stories."  Following is one of the stories from that book.

 

Bee Sting

One summer evening, probably when I was about nine or ten years old, I was playing outside in the evening.  I, as was usual in the summertime, was barefoot.  We had some clover in our grass.  I could take you to the exact place this happened, as it is burned into my memory. Suddenly I had extreme pain on the bottom of one of my feet.  I thought I had stepped on a sticker of some kind.  I sat down and looked at it, but I couldn’t see anything.  It really, really hurt.  My parents were not home.  I think my brother was in charge.  I was in a lot of pain.  I went inside and laid on the front room couch.  My foot started to swell and swell.  I didn’t feel well.  When my parents got home, my dad looked at it and said I had probably been stung by a bee and that I was very allergic.  That thought had not even crossed my mind- that it was a bee sting.  My lips were kind of swollen, too.  My dad brought me ice and gave me a pill- I assume an allergy pill.  When I got up to walk, my foot was so swollen, it felt like I had a pillow tied to the bottom of my foot. 

My dad said I was very allergic and that if I got stung again, it might kill me.  He said I needed to have allergy shots for bee venom.  I was not happy.  I was so scared.  He said I needed to have them twice a week.  So twice every week I walked to his office (about five blocks) where he administered a shot to me.  I was very frightened of the needle, but I trusted my dad.  Over time, I found that the shots really weren’t too bad.  But I would only let my dad give them to me.  Sometimes I had to wait for a very long time to get my shot.  He was a very busy doctor and so sometimes I would wait over an hour for my shot.  Mrs. Evans, his nurse, would get it ready and I would wait and wait in an exam room.  I remember one time she came in while I was waiting and told me that it was going to be quite a while before my dad would be free.  She said she was very good at giving shots and she would be happy to give it to me.  I politely refused.  I only wanted my dad to do it. 

I don’t remember how long I took shots twice a week, but it was for a long time.  Then, I noticed, after having a shot, I would get a rash.  It got worse with each one.  I showed my dad.  He said I had become allergic to the anti-venom and that we would need to discontinue the shots.  Honestly, I was a little sad.  I enjoyed visiting my dad at his office and having that short time with him a couple of times each week.  I had grown accustomed to the shots and really didn’t mind them at all.  That was a good thing, considering how many needles I would have in my future!  It helped prepare me for them.

I have not been stung by a bee since, so I’m not sure if the shots worked or not.  I always carry an allergy pill with me, just in case I am stung.