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The Sting

Swamp runs involve peculiar perils - strainers can be numerous, portage routes may be waist deep with mud, poison ivy and trumpet creeper vines exact a price for passage and, during the late summer months, innocent branches may hold a painful surprise.

Staging boats at river's edge before a local swamp run I cautioned everyone about the dangers of wasp nests hanging from innocuous looking branches over the water, warning all to watch their lines and not carelessly brush against the foliage if avoidable.

Everyone heeded this advice and the initially strong current soon had us out into the more open tidal portion of this run without difficulty. At this point one of our paddlers announced that he needed to relieve himself and asked his partner in the stern to take him over to a nearby duck blind where he could stand in the boat, holding onto a vertical post, while attending to business.

This he proceeded to do, writing his name with a flourish on the duck blind wall...unaware of the wasp nest on the far side of the boards.

Unaware, that is, until the wasps retaliated, stinging him several times. Bad enough this, but our unfortunate paddler, hereafter referred to as "Sting", was also the only member of our group allergic to bees.

Backpaddling in haste, Sting informed me that he had been stung. I fished the Benadryl and Epi-pen out of the group first aid kit (remember: ALWAYS bring a well-stocked first aid kit) and told Sting's sternman to paddle like hell for the take out. Arriving there in short order Sting's near incoherence and blue lips made the 911 call a no brainer. Sting was soon en route to the local hospital, siren wailing.

Our remaining paddlers gathered boats and gear and, as they headed home, I headed off to the emergency room to retrieve my stricken comrade.

After bluffing my way into the exam room ("He's my brother") I arrived bedside just as the attending began his exam. The doc asked "So, where did they get you" and Sting pointed to two places on his arm and then proceeded to open his hospital gown and point to the third location, a direct hit on his apparently offending appendage

Noting the Doc's startled reaction and I quickly decide that the time had come for me to wait outside.

Sting was eventually pumped full of antihistamines, given a prescription and an ice pack and released. In an effort to break the awkward silence on the ride home I inquired if there was much swelling and was treated to a description that concluded with the words "...like a baby's arm stuck through a bagel".

I haven't been able to look at a bagel quite the same since.

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