One more story from the weekend...

We had just said goodbye and gotten into the car and I sat down and got a quick, stabbing pain in the middle of my back. "Shit! John I think I just got stung by a bee! Will you look at it?" My reaction to mosquito bites is ridiculous and so I assume bees will be worse and was nervous that if I waited five minutes, it swell so large that my shirt would burst, hulk-style. As I held my shirt over my head so John could look, there was a buzzing sound and we stopped to wonder which phone was getting static-y and why...hmmm? John assessed that it looked like I had been bitten, not stung and while it was huge, it was not of comically immense proportions, at least not yet. What is that damn buzzing? It seems obvious in retrospect, but as we put my shirt back down, the bug flew away and the buzzing stopped. it had been trapped in my shirt. duh. dude, it was huge. As we drove out of the woods, I felt like I had a giant dagger stabbed into my back. I made John stop and look at it more than once. By the time we arrived in town, it was going between stabbing pain and horrible itching. The redness was about as big as my fist. Awesomely enough, it happened on the opposite shoulder than the new tattoo. But that also meant the between the constant itching of the bite and the healing itch of the tat, I was just about driven crazy with the urge to scratch my back. One side was off limits and the other side was positioned in such a way that I needed a tool of some sort, or the help of a husband, to reach the itch. That happened Saturday. Today is the first day it's actually diminished to the point where I can accomplish tasks without wishing I could scrub the skin off my back. ah.... unfortunately, the redness is still as big as my fist. Gonna wait to take the new tat picks until I won't get asked "um, what does that big red part mean?"