The trouble with being a self-professed know-it-all is that inevitably, you are going to have to eat your words. Two weeks ago, I wrote an article on stinging nettles, and dealing with other minor stings such as wasp. On the day that article came out, I got the first of what would be three yellow-jacket stings in less than a week.

            And so, as I limped foolishly around wearing my old flip-flops, the only shoe I could fit over the hot, red, blob that was my foot, thinking it was all very funny and assuring everyone that it was no big deal, just a localized reaction, perfectly healthy… I was again stung, this time on my thigh.

            This sting produced a hot, red lump about six by twelve inches in diameter. I was quite glib about the whole thing, in fact managed to turn it into a parlour trick. I discovered I could draw a happy face in the red swelling with my finger. I again told everyone that there was nothing to worry about. I knew the difference between a localized reaction, which shouldn’t spread more than twelve inches from the original sting, and a systemic reaction, which can occur anywhere on body. After all, Biology was my major in university, and I had worked as an Immunology lab tech for many years.

            Four days later, foot better, thigh still sore, my visiting sister and I decided to walk to the ferry, where my brother-in-law waited in the car, ready for a full day of shopping. Ten minutes from home, a wasp dived-bombed my head. The immediate pain was excruciating, but this shortly dissipated and in about five minutes, I had convinced myself that I was in the clear. There was not a wasp in the world that could come between this shopaholic and her shopping. It is somewhat ironic that at the very same time this was happening, the Sounder was coming out; the edition with the Eli Wakan photo of a wasps’ nest enclosing an apple and a caption suggesting that perhaps I might have a recipe for “Wild Apple Stinger Jam.” Was this all predestined?

            Ten minutes late, I began to itch. It started at my waist, moved under my arms, into my palms and over my scalp. I itched everywhere. By the time we reached the car, I was ready to tear off my clothes, and even then, I was telling myself that this was the result of an over-active imagination

            It wasn’t until I heard my voice getting quite husky and I began having trouble clearing my throat that I reached to my face and felt the large swelling on my chin. That did it. I jumped out the car that was at any moment going to be loading on to the ferry, and began to run of the hill towards the village with no clear plan. I just knew that I needed help ASAP. I was having a systemic reaction to the wasp venom, and this anaphylaxis, which had started a mere 30 minutes ago, could kill me.

            Fortunately, my sister and brother-in-law also began to realize the seriousness of my condition, and pulled out of the line-up and made me get into the car. The only place I could think of at ten in the morning was my doctor’s office. As we sped towards it, I had also formulated plans B and C: the pharmacy or 911.

            The girls in the office quickly assessed my condition. Aly stayed with me and kept me calm, rubbing my legs soothingly, coaching me to breath. The itching seemed to have stopped, but now there were hives covering most of my body. I had no feeling in my mouth. I felt like I had swallowed a wooden block and it was trying to move down my esophagus. It was becoming more and more difficult to swallow, and I was scared. It was only because of the calming words and encouragement I was receiving that I didn’t try to run away.

            The injection of adrenaline worked its magic almost immediately; my throat cleared, I began to get feeling back in my mouth, and the huge lump on my chin shrunk. Man, I felt great!

            Now, I must always keep an Epipen close at hand, especially in wasp season. The next time I get stung, I won’t be waiting to see what type of reaction I am having, I’ll just poke myself. The impact of having three wasp stings in one week had made my immune system hypersensitive to the wasp venom. I now have tiny mast cells, with long memories, all over my body, just waiting to be triggered by the next dose of wasp venom, releasing their histamines and other chemicals; a clear case of the body’s protection system being a bit over-protective.

            There are a few other simple ways to reduce your chances of getting stung. Nix that floral perfume or fruity hair conditioner. Don’t wear bright or floral clothing, especially loose-fitting clothing, when near wasps. Don’t go barefoot. Be vigilant when sitting down outside. Never swat wasps; lightly brush them off with a napkin or other piece of paper. Check that bottle of beer before taking a swig.

            And the next time you find yourself determined to enjoy a meal alfresco and the wasps just aren’t cooperating, concede victory and go inside. It sure beats the alternative.