Unexpected Bee Stings Are Unexpected

August recap will be coming shortly, but I quickly wanted to blog about Monday's ride.

Monday's ride was notable for a few reasons:

Reason One: It was the first time either of us had been on a bike since the tri.
Reason Two: We set out to have a FUN ride on the Platte River Trail and, for most of the first half, achieved this goal.
Reason Three: I got stung by a bee. IN MY LIP.

For serious.

Okay, story time: We were cycling down the Platte, playing tag, weaving in and out of the dashed lines on the trail (ALWAYS ALWAYS ceasing such nonsense when other cyclists/runners/rollerbladers came into the picture. we're safe, yo), about halfway to downtown when I suddenly feel something fuzzy. IN MY MOUTH.

Brandon, behind me, hears me screaming and sees me wobbling on my bike. He thinks a grasshopper or something landed on my leg and I couldn't brush it off.

Oh no, no, no ... I hate the crazy grasshoppers that are seemingly EVERYWHERE this year, but no. I freaked out because something flew INTO MY FACE and I felt fuzzy (and subsequently some pain) in MY MOUTH. Obviously worthy of a freakout. I was wiping at my face with my gloves just trying to get whatever it was away.

I eventually manage to stop, clip out and yank my glove off my hand and get it away from me. Brandon, at this point, catches up to me and tells me to chill out. After a few breaths ... and the realization that yes, T, you HAVE been stung by a bee and the stinger is STILL in your lip and your face is puffing up ... I calmed down enough to take stock of our surroundings. Luckily, we were near a SuperTarget that was accessible off the trail ... meaning our ride suddenly had an unexpected detour.

Brandon, deathly allergic to bees, asks me if I'm dizzy, experiencing any blurred vision, ridiculous pain, that sort of thing. I'm fine and just want to get the hell to Target and get this freaking thing out of my face. We get there, clip out and clomp through to the pharmacy ... getting weird looks the whole way. At this point, my face has puffed up quite a bit and I'm drooling. Pretty awesome, I know.

We talk to the pharmacist who agrees that we need to get the stinger out of my mouth. I find the tweezers and Brandon yanks it out. The pharmacist and assistants are in awe of how complete it is. They then hand me an ice pack and tell me to take some Benadryl (or the fake target equivalent.) I comply. We keep the stinger for posterity (which is how you get the following pictures).

After a few minutes, the swelling went down to the point that I could talk again without sounding like I was at the dentist. Brandon offered to ride back to the car and then pick me up, but I said no, I was riding back to the car.

So, off we went, our fun ride suddenly a little less fun ... magnified by the nasty crosswind (wsw ... mostly at our butts going out) going back. Plus any time a bug hit me I jumped a bit in the saddle.

After lunch and some more Benadryl (and a nice night's sleep), I ended up being fine; my lip was still a little tingly the next morning at work, but that went away by the time I got off.


My lip puffing up.


Bee stinger in tweezers, view one.


Bee stinger in tweezers, view two.