There I sat in the ER shivering, with a face that everyone told me made me look "like a prize fighter," and an IV in my arm. As I sat there, totally miserable, I wondered how I had gotten myself into this mess. It all started in science class that afternoon. We took a test, and then we got ready to collect the materials necessary for an experiment. This involved going to a small pond on my teacher's property to collect some pond water. To get to the pond, we had to cross a strip of trees and a couple fields. And the trouble started there.
Coming to the pond, we discovered that a fence surrounded the body of water. Apparently this barrier prevented livestock from wallowing in the pond, but we had to cross it to obtain our water. Unfortunately, this fence consisted of barbed wire, and the lowest wire rested close to the ground. Having an adventurous personality and feeling comfortable with nature, I willingly volunteered to try to go under the fence at the first likely spot--the place where a hay bale had deteriorated and left a soft bed that had smothered the tall grass under it. I got under it easily except for standing up too soon and catching my sweatshirt on one of the barbs.
Soon everyone else had crossed the barrier except for my teacher. Two weeks earlier she had had a surgery to fix some varicose veins. She still could not bend her leg very much and needed help getting under the fence. I went back and was holding up the wire, when all of a sudden, I felt little pricks on my face. My teacher shouted at me something about bumble bees and to run. They seemed to come from nowhere and to surround us. Trying to run without falling, I hid my face--the only part of me not protected other than my hands--inside my sweatshirt. Obviously the bees had decided that the hay pile had looked like a good place to live, and we had disturbed them. However, no one else got stung besides my teacher and me.
After retreating back to the field, my teacher asked if anyone wanted to stay and observe the environment as we had planned on doing. No one had the heart to do so. One of the girls had collected a good amount of water for our experiment, and no one wanted to risk getting stung simply trying to sketch some plants and animals. We got back to her house, and she made a poultice with baking soda and water. That eased the pain of my three stings, but she did not have what I really needed--Benadryl. Finally, I started to feel sick, and I had my dad come and pick me up. He decided to stop at his office for my stuff and then take me home.
On the way home, I threw up. Luckily we were on a back road, and Dad just slowed down so I could throw up out the window. I threw up several more times before we got home. At home, I tried to take the medicine that Mom gave me, but I could not keep it down. Mom told me that she wanted to take me to the emergency room, but I did not want to go. That would mean that I would have to get up, and I did not want to move at all. After getting to the ER, a man immediately put me in a wheel chair and stuck an IV in my arm to supply me with liquids and medicines that would reduce the allergic reaction to the bee venom. My allergic reaction gets worse every time that I get stung, so now I have to carry a special needle around with me. That way, next time I get stung, I will have the medication to give to myself. If I do not get the medication in time, my lungs will fill up with liquid, and I will suffocate.
age = 13-16