Ants in my Pants
Little bastards got me again. This time it was at the Country Club of Columbus, while shooting yet another golf tournament. Once again, it was on the 18th green. There was no mound, no dirt, no tell-tale signs. Just hundreds of the little bastards suddenly swarming all over my shoes and up my pantlegs.
From what I can tell, I got stung three times. That's it. Once again, it isn't one of those swarming fire-ant horror stories that ends in hundreds of pustules. Just three stings.
This time, it took about two hours for the symptoms to start to get bad. That's when I left work. I probably should have gone to the emergency room, but I knew all they'd do was hook me up to an IV of some other antihistamine. I would have felt better a lot faster... but I'm not sure it would be worth the $150. Instead I went home, dosed myself up on Benadryl, and in the next five hours only got out of bed to throw up and take more Benadryl.
My main concern was that I'd have to use my Epi-Pen. The thought of stabbing myself in the thigh with a needle big enough to go through jeans is a little scary. Fortunatlely, it never got quite that bad. I did, however, re-read the instructions on the package several times, just in case.
Today, I feel normal. Very, very, very itchy, but otherwise normal.
Little bastards got me again. This time it was at the Country Club of Columbus, while shooting yet another golf tournament. Once again, it was on the 18th green. There was no mound, no dirt, no tell-tale signs. Just hundreds of the little bastards suddenly swarming all over my shoes and up my pantlegs.
From what I can tell, I got stung three times. That's it. Once again, it isn't one of those swarming fire-ant horror stories that ends in hundreds of pustules. Just three stings.
This time, it took about two hours for the symptoms to start to get bad. That's when I left work. I probably should have gone to the emergency room, but I knew all they'd do was hook me up to an IV of some other antihistamine. I would have felt better a lot faster... but I'm not sure it would be worth the $150. Instead I went home, dosed myself up on Benadryl, and in the next five hours only got out of bed to throw up and take more Benadryl.
My main concern was that I'd have to use my Epi-Pen. The thought of stabbing myself in the thigh with a needle big enough to go through jeans is a little scary. Fortunatlely, it never got quite that bad. I did, however, re-read the instructions on the package several times, just in case.
Today, I feel normal. Very, very, very itchy, but otherwise normal.
Labels: Being the Sportslady, the daily grind
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