Smoke detectors, as you probably remember from this post, are my nemesis. But that’s not my thesis. My thesis is that smoke detectors lead to bee stings, bee stings suck, and the remedies for the itching are all over the board. Stay with me.
Early Friday night, a single smoke detector in my hallway began chirping annoyingly. Knowing the sheer insanity that ensued the last time I fought this war, I was determined to end this particular battle before it started. Luckily, the unit in question was within my reach. I calmly removed it from its perch. As its high pitch squeal intermittently attempted to break me down, I peacefully wrapped it in six or seven layers of t-shirts until the sound was nearly unintelligible. I certainly did not want to destroy a nearly brand new item, so I looked for a place where I could further bury the sound and came up with the perfect location – under the cushion of the outdoor love seat on my balcony outside my bedroom.
Malibu gets dark at night, but I’m a man (making fun of men and myself, not being sexist, relax), I don’t need lights to see. I stepped out with my cloth wrapped package and reached blindly for the cushion. Whap, the punk laid into me with his stinger. Out of the dark and into my bedroom I walked, removing the evidence with my fingernail. Only the punk wasn’t male. That tiny woman ruined my night. From about.com:
The stinger (or sting) on any bee or wasp is actually a modified ovipositor. That’s why you don’t have to worry about male bees or wasps stinging you; only female bees and wasps can sting.
Told you I wasn’t being sexist. It wasn’t the pain (it never is) that caused concern. It was the immediate, miserable flashbacks that hit me.
As a moppet growing up and playing barefoot (I chose to be barefoot, I had shoes) in my neighborhood, I stepped on a bee or wasp from time to time. The pain was nothing, but the itching and swelling that followed was nearly unbearable. I can clearly recall grabbing the sturdiest small tree branch I could find and scraping it across my skin trying to get relief. This swelling, irritating reaction has been consistently evident every time I’ve been stung since those Reseda days. From mayoclinic.com:
Some people who get stung by a bee or other insect have a bit stronger reaction, with signs and symptoms such as:
Extreme redness
Swelling at the site of the sting that gradually enlarges over the next day or two
Moderate reactions tend to resolve over five to 10 days. Having a moderate reaction doesn’t mean you’ll have a severe allergic reaction the next time you’re stung. But some people develop similar moderate reactions each time they’re stung.
You know how we respond ‘round here. We identify problems and seek dependable solutions. When bees sting, they release a chemical called melittin into their victim. This venom continues to pump into our system until the stinger is removed. More venom, more swelling, more itch. So, we want a remedy to counteract the venom, logically. From vegetablegardener.com (of course):
Just a drop on the sting site is all you need. The essential oils in the lavender are supposed to neutralize the venom immediately.
Damn hippies. There are plenty of over-the-counter drug solutions, too. From healthline.com:
If itching or skin irritation becomes bothersome, use hydrocortisone cream or calamine lotion to control the discomfort. Baking soda and colloidal oatmeal are additional ingredients that are soothing to the skin, and can be used in the bath or through medicated skin creams.
Um, no thanks on the chemical crap. Because I’m currently in a hotel room in Palm Desert, CA on my way to AZ for Spring Training, I’ll be sting-recovering old school baseball style. I’ll rub some dirt on it.
Strong mind,
Kap
