Yesterday (Sunday) I was getting ready to mow the lawn and when I pulled the mower out of our little storage shed, a swarm of ground hornets came after me. Had only seen a few this summer, but I guess now they are swarming big time. They came out from under the shed floor.
I got nailed by at least six and being very allergic to bee and wasp stings I carry an Epipen with me at all times........that is until yesterday. One was in the house on my dresser, the other out front in my truck. I did some kind of new dance down the hill, swatting at air, while my wife sat calmly on the deck reading the paper.
"Did you get stung, Bob?"
"No! I usually dance like this before I cut the lawn. It gets the blades of grass standing up better watching me dance."
"Do you have your Epipen? You know you should always carry it with you."
"Thank You, Nurse Know-It-All. I'll try to remember that.........ne......tim........!"
Bam.....I hit the back screen door, or what I thought was the screen door, my eyes were crossing so bad, and promptly slid to the deck.
Donna gets the pen and I whap the thing into my thigh and hold it there for ten or fifteen seconds or possibly much longer. I don't remember.
After a few minutes I can manage to get up and walk to the couch and lay down.
"Bob, why are you lying on the floor?"
"I'm on the couch.........aren't I?"
"Ok, we're going to the ER. Let's get your sorry ass in the car."
We go to Community Medical and Trauma
center. It's closer by a few miles and you don't have to cross traffic in Missoula. Plus, only half the staff there knows me, unlike St. Pats where I'm a household name.
We get there and Donna gets a nurse to help me out of the car.
"Hey Bob! What happened? I bet I know. You were dreaming the Vikings won the Super Bowl and you started having seizures." (she's an old friend and big time Vikes fan)
I tried to call her a nasty name, but all that came out was "itch." My throat was not working to well then.
Anyway, they got me stabilized with some more meds and a shot of some steroid substance. Wonder if I'll get big muscles and talk like Arnold? Everything was fine and back to normal after a couple of hours and we went home.
"Bob, why didn't you tell them you itched so bad? You kept yelling at Heather, 'itch, itch'."
"Sweetie Pie, I wasn't saying itch. I was trying to call her a nasty name for being a Vikings fan."
"Oh, God football. Why did they have to end that lockout!!"
Anyone for a Weenie Roast?