During the summer one Sunday, I had an ancillary task involving tires. There was a large pile of tires that had accumulated on the side of the building. I was asked to organize the tires by size and identify the ones that were too worn to be used.
Tires are annoying to deal with. Sure, you can roll them, but eventually, you have to pick them up to stack them. Tires are dirty, and they inevitably get your clothes dirty. They also accumulate water, which is not easy to dump out without getting the splashback.
It was hot outside, and there was no shade on the side of the building. It wasn't my favorite task, but it gave me something to do on an otherwise boring Sunday. I was hoping Doobie would keep me company outside, but he was too busy snoozing in his usual spot on the red rug in the lobby by the glass doors. He had the right idea to stay inside where it was cool. While I was sorting tires at the side of the building, I couldn't see the gas pumps. I would periodically walk to the edge of the building to see whether any customers showed up. When they did, I paused my task to handle the transactions and then returned to tire sorting.
I was maybe 75% complete with the task when I felt something sharp near my right wrist as I picked up a tire. I thought maybe there was a piece of metal or something that poked me. I immediately dropped the tire and looked at my arm and hand. Near my wrist, I saw something had punctured my skin. Almost as if to announce its culpability, a wasp starting buzzing around me.
I had been stung by bees before, and while it was somewhat painful and annoying, it wasn't a big deal. I had never been stung by a wasp, but I assumed it would be a similar experience.
I ran around the side of the building to get away from the wasp and came in through the large shop door. My arm was starting to feel hot, and I went to the sink to run some water over it and inspect the damage. When I first looked at the puncture wound, it looked like the stinger was still embedded in my skin. After running some water over my arm, the stinger was gone and replaced by a small spot of blood.
I walked back to my post at the cash register. Within minutes, my arm, hand, and fingers had swelled alarmingly. It looked like someone had used a tire pump to inflate me. My hand and fingers swelled so much that I couldn't close my hand into a fist. I could barely bend my wrist or fingers. My forearm was swollen all the way to my elbow and was on its way to looking like one of Popeye's. My skin felt hot to the touch and was turning red.
Fortunately, I was near the end of my shift. I'm not sure whether I had planned for my mom to pick me up, but she did and immediately took me to an urgent care to get checked out. The reaction was limited to my right arm and hand. I don't recall if they gave me any medicine, maybe Benadryl. I think the answer was that it would go back to normal after a bit. The swelling started to subside by that evening and by the next morning my arm and hand were pretty much back to normal. My mom made sure that I informed Jim about what happened, and he promptly paid for the urgent care visit. Nothing extra for pain and suffering.
To this day, I have no idea whether I had a typical reaction to a wasp sting or whether I might be allergic. That was the only time I've been stung by a wasp. Anytime I see one, I think about the tire task that ended prematurely.
Tires are annoying to deal with. Sure, you can roll them, but eventually, you have to pick them up to stack them. Tires are dirty, and they inevitably get your clothes dirty. They also accumulate water, which is not easy to dump out without getting the splashback.
It was hot outside, and there was no shade on the side of the building. It wasn't my favorite task, but it gave me something to do on an otherwise boring Sunday. I was hoping Doobie would keep me company outside, but he was too busy snoozing in his usual spot on the red rug in the lobby by the glass doors. He had the right idea to stay inside where it was cool. While I was sorting tires at the side of the building, I couldn't see the gas pumps. I would periodically walk to the edge of the building to see whether any customers showed up. When they did, I paused my task to handle the transactions and then returned to tire sorting.
I was maybe 75% complete with the task when I felt something sharp near my right wrist as I picked up a tire. I thought maybe there was a piece of metal or something that poked me. I immediately dropped the tire and looked at my arm and hand. Near my wrist, I saw something had punctured my skin. Almost as if to announce its culpability, a wasp starting buzzing around me.
I had been stung by bees before, and while it was somewhat painful and annoying, it wasn't a big deal. I had never been stung by a wasp, but I assumed it would be a similar experience.
I ran around the side of the building to get away from the wasp and came in through the large shop door. My arm was starting to feel hot, and I went to the sink to run some water over it and inspect the damage. When I first looked at the puncture wound, it looked like the stinger was still embedded in my skin. After running some water over my arm, the stinger was gone and replaced by a small spot of blood.
I walked back to my post at the cash register. Within minutes, my arm, hand, and fingers had swelled alarmingly. It looked like someone had used a tire pump to inflate me. My hand and fingers swelled so much that I couldn't close my hand into a fist. I could barely bend my wrist or fingers. My forearm was swollen all the way to my elbow and was on its way to looking like one of Popeye's. My skin felt hot to the touch and was turning red.
Fortunately, I was near the end of my shift. I'm not sure whether I had planned for my mom to pick me up, but she did and immediately took me to an urgent care to get checked out. The reaction was limited to my right arm and hand. I don't recall if they gave me any medicine, maybe Benadryl. I think the answer was that it would go back to normal after a bit. The swelling started to subside by that evening and by the next morning my arm and hand were pretty much back to normal. My mom made sure that I informed Jim about what happened, and he promptly paid for the urgent care visit. Nothing extra for pain and suffering.
To this day, I have no idea whether I had a typical reaction to a wasp sting or whether I might be allergic. That was the only time I've been stung by a wasp. Anytime I see one, I think about the tire task that ended prematurely.
