Re: [lace-chat] Wasp story
> By the time my mom could rush me to the hospital I had stopped > breathing, my heart had stopped and I was turning blue, so she told > me. > Needless to say I lived (duh) but was terribly allergic to all > bee/wasp > venom from then on. i am so sorry. i think that is terrible. that would be like having your whole childhood taken away not being able to play outside any more without so much precaution. i would have been scared i wouldn't have gone out at all. you are so lucky to be here today. i have a similar story that was not funny at all about a guy here in tennessee that got into a car accident. he didn't get into a bad accident and would have been hardly hurt, but the car window got smashed when he slammed into a tree and the tree had a bees nest of some kind built in it. he was stung so many times and he didn't have a way to the hospital that he never had a chance. he didn't die from the crash, only from the bee stings. all the modern inventions in the world still can't stop mother nature. she is still the worst killer. from susan in tennessee,u.s.a. __ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED] For help, write to [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Re: [lace-chat] Wasp story
As long as everyone is sharing . . . :D My bug story isn't wasps, it's hornets. When I was about 5 or so, my mom was visiting one of her friends who had a daughter about my age. There was also a large hedge around her yard and the remains of an old chain link fence embeded in the hedge, i.e., old metal fence posts. I can't even remember the other girl's name now, but we were riding our tricycles up and down the sidewalk and up to the front door and back. Apparently one or the other of us bumped one of those old metal fence posts. Living inside was a nest of hornets. They swarmed out of there like their little tails were on fire and lit into us. Well, me, actually, as the other girl ran up to the house screaming for help. Both moms came pelting out of the house, but it wasn't fast enough to save me. I was stung on the base of my skull by about a dozen of these nasties. Up until that time there was no problem with the occasional bee sting other than the usual unpleasantness associated with it. But this was a really excessive stinging. By the time my mom could rush me to the hospital I had stopped breathing, my heart had stopped and I was turning blue, so she told me. Needless to say I lived (duh) but was terribly allergic to all bee/wasp venom from then on. No more flowery little girl perfume (I used to love Avon's stick honeysuckle scented stuff), no more sugar sweetened drinks left outside (so nothing could get in and sting me), and so forth. Momma carried a hypodermic of anti-venom for years but luckily never had to use it. After that one massive stinging, I don't remember ever being stung again as a child. The last time I was stung was when my son was little, something like 25 years ago. It wasn't even a sting, really. My boyfriend at the time was trying to kill a wasp by flicking it with a towel like they were in the locker room or something. Well the towel hit the wasp and the wasp ricocheted off my arm, stinger first. It hit the back of my wrist and by the time I could go down a single flight of stairs to the bathroom, my arm had swollen up so hard and so fast that the arm of my T-shirt was cutting into my flesh. Got me cut out of the shirt and off to the hospital for treatment. And I haven't been stung since, either. I suppose I should still carry anti venom with me but I guess I like to live dangerously :D About 7 years ago I had to be tested for allergies and mentioned to the doctor that I was allergic to bee stings as a child. He thought it the better part of valor NOT to test me for that particular antigen during the scratch test. So even though I haven't been stung in a long time, I assume I would have a similar reaction today . Ain't life grand? -- Ruth Omnia vincit Amor; et nos cedamus Amori. ~ Virgil To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED] For help, write to [EMAIL PROTECTED]
[lace-chat] Wasp story
We certainly have a lot of "bug" stories, don't we? This is better than the flame war that sometimes seem to start up in August. Give me creepy crawly stories from the safety of the computer room any time! Nova's wasp story reminded me that I have a wasp story of my own. A couple of years ago, in the fall, I took in a batch of laundry I had hung outdoors on the clothesline. The days were getting shorter and cooler, and so some of the heavier fabrics, like denim blue jeans, had not quite dried. So I put the whole batch into the dryer, thinking that at least they were partly dry. The next morning I pulled out a pair of my slacks to wear to work and put them on. As I walked to the kitchen I felt that jabbing pain Nova described -- like having a hot knitting needle spiked into you -- right where the back of the leg meets the buttock! YOW! I dropped those pants so fast! And sure enough, a wasp had ridden indoors on the laundry and survived its tumbling in the dryer. All I could think of was the fact that for me, wasp bites usually swell, and then they *itch*. I would be going to work (minus the wasp!), with an itchy wasp bite right on my backside! But strangely, this wasp bite, although it hurt, never started to itch. I slowly realized that it must have used up all of its venom stinging the laundry as it tumbled in the hot dryer! And I thanked goodness that the batch hadn't quite dried. Otherwise it might have been my hand, as I folded the laundry, that met up with the wasp. I learned my lesson -- when the wasps start looking for places to hibernate in the fall, I give up hanging laundry outdoors, even if the day is sunny and warm. It's not worth the wasp-roulette! Lynn Carpenter in SW Michigan, USA alwen at i2k dot com To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED] For help, write to [EMAIL PROTECTED]
