Oh, Death, where is thy sting?

Saint Paul wrote those words nearly 2000 years ago. He just hadn’t met our third hive yet.

Here is something I just realized, like children, each of our hives have distinct personalities, for lack of a better word. The first Italians are active and energetic and the Carns are dutiful and gentle. I can sum up the personality of the third hive in one word: mean. These buggers have attitude and aggression down pat. They have a lot of guard bees that bum rush you, running into your veil or hand or whatever at full tilt to let you know that you are being watched. They simply do not like intruders.

Early on in the inspection of this hive I found out that the gloves I have are not nearly thick enough. One of the guard bees decided she had had enough of me and stung me on the back of my wrist. I stepped away from the hive and followed the advice of a 17th century beekeeper: remove the bee and its stinger and “cover the sting in spittle.” This might (BIG might here) cover the attack pheromones released when a bee stings you. We were nearly done with the inspection—John has still only been stung once during any of our inspections—when the new girls on the block got really ticked. In less than five seconds I felt at least 4 or 5 more stings. They happened so fast that I really didn’t know how many times I had been stung and wouldn’t find out till the next day. I did what any smart person would do at that point and ran away. Fortunately, unlike Africanized honey bees that will follow an intruder/victim for a mile, the Italians stopped chasing me after about ten feet. I let John handle the rest of the inspection as I surely reeked of attack pheromones.

After things settled down I discovered that I had at least six new stings. Because I am weird, I was looking forward to what would happen next. When I was stung twice three weeks ago by our other Italians, my arm swelled from nearly my elbow all the way to the first joints of my fingers. Small blisters appeared near the sting sites, one of which popped and scabbed a bit. My arm burned and itched for a week and a half. On the plus side, my allergy symptoms—sneezing and runny nose—dissipated quite nicely.

So, two days later, here are the details. At first, I knew that I had been stung more than 4 or 5 times, but couldn’t quite tell how many. The sting sites ached a bit and because one sting was on my left ring finger knuckle, I removed my wedding band to avoid having to get it cut off if the swelling was too bad. Very little swelling occurred by Saturday night, but the sting sites hurt much more than the stings I received three weeks ago. I popped two Benadryl and a couple Tylenol and went to bed.

In the morning the pain had nearly disappeared and some swelling affected both hands. By this time I knew I had been stung at least nine times. I felt some relief that the swelling was much less than the previous time despite the number of stings. By the time we got home from church, I had found another sting. Some of the sites hurt nicely if I put pressure on them, which was annoying since one of the stings was on my forearm where I tended to rest it on the arm of a chair. Uncomfortable. Some itching had also presented. Yet, the symptoms have been to much less of a degree than previously. The swelling as of today (Monday, Memorial Day) is already diminishing and the itching is very mild. Plus, I haven’t sneezed once today despite not taking any Benadryl last night nor having any Claritin.

Here’s the funny thing. I found two more stings last night. So, I was stung a total of 12 times on Saturday. Yes, 12. Six on each arm. Remember, eleven of those happened in less than five seconds. By midday Sunday I had found a total of ten, including the first one, as the welts became more distinct. The other two sit right next to each other and were hidden by the swelling in that hand.

So, St. Paul, we might have found Death’s sting and I need to find new gloves...

Posted by Bob Nelson

Update (belatedly)

Despite getting 12 stings in one afternoon, they healed remarkably fast.  By the following Tuesday evening, the only thing left were the welts from the stings - no swelling or itching at all.  As of today (Tues 6/8), I have just a tiny patch of dry skin where the worst sting landed.

For our last inspection I found some thick nitrile gloves, which worked great except for the lack of feeling and bulkiness.  I'm going to try a pair of nitrile examination gloves next time for better dexterity and the knowledge that they have some natural pucnture resistance.