Three years ago, we replaced our old deck with a larger, more attractive model. I love this time of year because I can take a cup of tea and sit on the deck and enjoy this perfect autumn afternoon. Maybe read a book.
Inside, the house is a few degrees cooler than
outside. We haven’t “turned the air” on. That is our quirky way of saying we
are messing with the temperature – hot or cold. But no heat yet in the house on
October 19. I am carrying my floor heater with me from office to den to take
the chill off.
Apparently, this is the year of the wasp. Angry wasp.
There are editorials written and poems and articles.
We had the yard treated in September and found a big
nest under the wonderful, new deck. It was quickly disposed of after all of the
contents were deceased. Several people have suggested I tell my wasp story but
there are so many others out there. How different can wasp incidents be?
I didn’t have my peppermint spray with me. Supposedly,
if you Google what wasps don’t like, wasp don’t like the smell of peppermint.
Oh, the lucky person who made that discovery.
Lovely autumn day waiting for the jeans to dry. Still
a chill in my bones despite the heater. Since it is warmer outside, I make
myself a cup of Constant Comment Tea which is a lot like spiced tea, add sugar
and head out to the safe deck. My husband has been giving me regular wasp
reports when he goes out to grill or sweep the deck. None to see.
I remember my first wasp sting. I was about seven, playing
in a front yard tree where a few wasps resided. I poured mud on their nest and
they rewarded me with a sting near my eyelid. My next sting was at my
grandmother’s house. You always had to watch for wasps at her house. Like when
you got in the bed. I leaned up against a window seat and it got me. My knee was
swollen and hot and I went to the doctor.
A few years ago, I stepped on a sluggish wasp in my
office. It was just wobbling on the carpet. No reaction except any injury on a
toe or knuckle drives you crazy. Several years pass until the end of this
summer.
My first two wasp stings were two weeks apart. Honest.
I was standing in the exact same spot, wearing the same clothes and the same
time of day. End of July. One was on my left forearm and the second on the back
of my upper arm. The first was red and swollen and I went to the doctor because
it was obviously not just a little sting.
The second sting caused my arm to swell inches past my
elbow. And it was bad red and hard and hot. My doctor said I had had a severe
reaction and I must carry an EpiPen. He puts me on steroids and cream. I won’t
post a picture.
I am devastated. My daughter carried an EpiPen and I
remember the mystery severe reaction that put her in the ER. Yes, I am glad to
have the pen if I need it, but just the thought of needing it caused me to lose
sleep.
I love to be outdoors. But there are stinging insects out
there. I suddenly felt restricted, scared to step on our deck. I even made up
Peppermint Spray – not to spray at the wasp but around the area where I am. I
bought Peppermint Shampoo and Peppermint Soap.
Wasps like trash and recycling and my ferns. And also,
Constant Comment Tea. I had just gotten settled, a couple of feet from the
previous wasp attacks, when this flash of black flies towards me and swoops up
over the roof. I would know that swoop anywhere. I am out of there.
If I get stung again, I will probably have a panic attack
and will be unable to distinguish it from the severe allergic reaction of not
being able to breathe. I carry my pen with me everywhere, even if I were to go
for a walk. I keep one in the house.
This pen is Epinephrine. It comes with its own special
Trainer for Practice Only Pen. I don’t carry that. I can only hope I will be cognizant
to use it myself or instruct someone how to jab my thigh and count a slow
three. But once you inject the pen, you have to go the hospital. That is the
best part about being out in the middle of nowhere if you do get stung.
Everyone raves about the ability to take the shot and
I agree. I just disagree with some little flying wasp that can cook my goose. I
am not ready to have my goose cooked or in such a manner. I don’t take out the
trash or recycling or look forward to yard work.
The audacity of the angry wasp to send me running into
the house. Guess I’ll go find my peppermint spray bottle. And get lathered up
about something I have very little control over. Afterall, it could be peanuts
or shellfish.
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