A Quiet Trip to the Park

The day started out easy enough. I decided to take a long walk, stop at the park so Evan could play and then planned to come home in time for lunch. We're in the midst of a heat wave today, so I really should have decided to take Evan to the pool instead, but I decided I should try and get a little more exercise.

After an eternity on the swings, Evan was ready to move on to some other equipment. He climbed up one side of a jungle gym apparatus while I moved over to wait at the bottom of the slide. He is easily sidetracked (I think he gets that from me) and stopped to play with a steering wheel. He reached up, let out a loud shriek and pulled away. As I looked up I saw three bees flying away from Evan. I had to coax him over to the slide, then I snatched him up to examine the damage.

There was one mark where he was stung and his hand was already swelling. This being his first bee sting, I had no idea whether he was allergic or not. I've thought about carrying Benadryl with me for just such an occasion, but of course I never went out and bought any. There was no one else at the park, so I couldn't even bum some off of a better prepared mother.

I put Evan in the stroller and RAN home. Literally ran home, dialing information and the pediatrician's office en route. I think my huffing and puffing may have made the doctor's office think it was a prank call since they put me on hold and never came back. I slowed to a fast walk when I called the second time. The nurse asked me if I had any Benadryl. Umm...no...I'm a bad mom. The kind that thinks she should do something, makes a mental note and then never gets back around to it. The nurse told me that it was unlikely he was going to have a breathing problem or else he would already be showing signs, she said. Actually, she was a bit of a smartie pants and the conversation went more like this (imagine the panic-stricken voices you hear on the 911 calls):

Me: "My son just received his first bee sting. What should I do?"
Nurse: "Is he allergic to bees?"
Me: "I don't know. This is his first sting." (My inner monologue: LIKE I JUST SAID LADY!)
Nurse: "Do you have any Benadryl?"
Me: "No. I don't. I don't have any!"
Nurse: "Well, he'd probably already be having trouble breathing if he was allergic."
Me: "How long does it take for breathing problems to occur?" (Inner monologue: Since you really have no idea if by "just" I mean three seconds ago or the five minutes it has taken me to dial information, call you, hold, then call you again and explain the situation).
Nurse: "Well it isn't like it would happen tomorrow."
Me: "Are we talking 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes?" (Inner monologue: I really need to switch pediatricians).

Anyway, at that point, I was pretty sure Evan wasn't allergic, but I wanted to be careful. As soon as I got home, I ran in and grabbed my wallet. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sweat was dripping from my chin, I had giant sweat rings under my boobs, of all places, and my pits?? Well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. I had calmed down a little by the time I got in the pharmacy. Mainly because as I was walking in, Evan broke free and headed for the candy aisle. At that point I knew the worst was over. I spent $33 on Benadryl and Benadryl-related products, should we ever need them again.

Evan is no worse for the wear and he even conned me out of some Tic Tacs. And as for me--I'm thinking I really need to take up running just in case I ever need to conquer the neighborhood hills again.