Recovery Updates

Joy Update 10/22/13
It has been officially two months since I had my scary bee incident. The doctors told me it would take me this long to just get back in to my daily routine. I am proud to say that I accomplished that at about 6 weeks out. About a week ago I was talking to a friend and he said that I sounded like I was 105% Joy. I kind of agree. Although I have been very physically weak, I have a different clarity to my actions throughout the day. This incident has helped distill priorities both personally and professionally in my life that maybe weren't as evident previously. Beforehand - EVERYTHING was a priority, and work was #1 above anything personal. I have always been a natural workaholic. Having that separate a little allows me to put more energy and focus into the truly important things, and enjoy everything I do a lot more with less stress. Today, two months out, marks a couple of milestones for me. First, it marks the start of my physical re-training regimen. Six weeks in a mostly horizontal position sure has knocked all of my physical fitness and strength out of me. Two weeks ago, just sitting up felt like exercise and made me sore, let alone carrying gas/PFDs for practices, and walking to the bays and back - whew that's a lot of work! I also have noticed the grade of sidewalks more than ever recently when walking Bundle. It's a big step to now actually be TRAINING again. It feels great and is tremendously difficult at the same time, but I'm glad I'm able to do it. Fitness can be regained. Secondly, I start my allergy treatments tomorrow morning. I have to say I'm just a tad nervous about how I'll feel after these, but I know I'm in good hands. Today, I truly feel like I'm looking forward and moving into what will be and away from what has been in terms of this experience. You know what they say - leave things better than you found them. Give me two more months, and I think I'll be better than I was before.

Joy Update 10/9/13 
A week ago I got the all clear from my doctors after having a stress test/ECHO done. My organs seem to be functioning fine after all the trauma of the bee venom, adrenaline/steroid infusions. The tests also show that my fitness is worse than it has probably ever been. Lying in bed for 5 weeks definitely has untrained everything about my body - muscles, tendons, lungs, heart...etc. Even sitting up all day is a workout right now. Being up and mobile for practices I lead takes everything out of me, so I don't think I'll be doing any running/rowing myself yet for a while. I need to get up to speed with daily life activities first. As far as my recovery goes, I look back to normal, and sound back to normal, and even sometimes function like I'm back to normal, but I sure don't feel back to normal. It's like I'm me, but I'm not me. It takes so much energy for me to be normal me for a few hours. It takes so long to recover from doing anything. It's very frustrating. I'm also terrible at planning out my days/week at the moment. I think I can do everything, but then I realize I can't function at 100% Joy speed, or that I have to just stop mid-day and crash. I'm still figuring everything out, and hopefully I will continue to get better each week. The doctors weren't kidding when they said this would effect me for a long time. Guess we'll see if I can handle coaching my youth team followed by coaching my adult team, and then watching the pirates game tonight. Normally I'd be doing 5hrs of work in the office before all of that.

Joy Update 9/23
This week I'm trying to go to work every day for a few hours. Just doing office/computer/behind the scenes work, but it's good to feel useful again - although my usefulness is limited to my brain and typing fingers at the moment. It's going to be a bit boring as anytime not at work is spent at home recovering in horizontal and sitting positions. Still occasionally have low grade fevers that are mostly controllable with Tylenol. The one thing I'm still dealing with that I can't take medicine to treat is the most limiting factor - my heart. The incredible doses of adrenaline they gave me, and I'm talking crazy amounts as I've finally seen my full hospital report (not including the ambulance report), I think really messed my poor heart muscle over. Anything I do makes it pump out of my chest and ache and hurt. It keeps me up at night, it works its way into my dreams and rarely goes away, but definitely gets worse with sitting up, walking, or just carrying my bag to/from the car. After activities like these I automatically put my hands on my chest and press inward to try to contain the thumping and pressure. I can't imagine any activity beyond these simple daily movements at the moment as I think they might do me in entirely. Then there are the sharp pains that happen randomly throughout the day as I'm sitting and talking to friends/coworkers, driving, or just eating/watching tv. If you see me wince - this is why. It's highly annoying and, honestly, a little bit worrying. I'm definitely not ready to deal with these pains while in a coaching launch in the middle of a river with 40+ people relying on my leadership. The doctors say that all the blood tests are normal and that my heart sounds normal, but it just doesn't feel right. Maybe this is one of the things about my recovery they said would take 2 months to get over? I thought I was emotionally through dealing with the trauma, but I guess that was only stage 1. I am truly okay mentally; I'm very rational and joyous as usual and my foundation in God is solid. I just might be a little darker than usual on certain subjects; a slightly different perspective these days.

Joy Update 9/18

I have successfully been working at the boathouse since 10:45am this morning! Even ate at my desk - ah the joys of a "normal" work day. There were some painful moments that regulated slightly with a little floor-time with Bundle. I feel so much better mentally knowing that I can start managing my teams, at least from afar. I was only going to stay today until 2 or 3pm, but decided to stay longer so I could say hello to my First Row girls before their practice. I love those girls so much! The Dr Pepper definitely helped me stick around longer today. It is now time for me to drive home and crash for the rest of the night. Happy to say that my brain is probably 85% back, although the rest of my body is still under 50%.

Joy Update 9/16

Today I actually went to work - as in driving into town and working! When driving, my brain tells me I can't have any distractions, so no music. It's amazing how long the drive seems to take when all your attention is on the actual act of driving. Upon arriving, it was so great seeing Megan, Jenn, Rick, and Nate. They have been so incredibly supportive of me and have taken on even more work as they all split up all of the things I usually do these past three weeks. The whole boathouse has been painted with a fresh coat of paint - my office included. A nice way to start a fresh new life of sorts. I am kinda glad I wasn't around for that ordeal. After some mild organizing I was able to get my "head in the game" a bit. I did some office/computer work and briefly caught up with what's been going on with the teams. After passing hour two, I was hurting. Pain everywhere, fever creeping up on me. It was clear I would not be able to be vertical for much longer. Driving home was painful, but I got through it. Then I immediately went up to my room and crashed. Apparently there is a 1:1 relationship of working hours to sleeping recovery hours. Now, awake again, it seems I still can't get horizontal enough to recover. Maybe I need one of those upside-down hanging devices. All in all, a successful day. I will repeat this effort on Wednesday. Tomorrow I think I will still be recovering.

Joy Update 9/13

For the last two days I've forced myself to be awake during the day and only slept at night. I actually feel a bit human again. Moving definitely is difficult still, but I feel more motivated to try it and push through the symptoms that come afterwards. I think that means I'm getting better. My vision is pretty much back to normal finally, so I drove to Target today for my first out-of-house excursion. It was a success, and although I feel exhausted and achy I'm excited about trying my next excursion soon. I'm three weeks out from the bee incident, and the doctors said it would take 2 months to recover. However, I'm Joy Nix, so that can't be correct. I'm stronger than the normal person. I'm not going to rush things that can't be rushed, but I will rush the things that allow rushing. Still lots of rest and recovery to go, but I have some motivation which I lacked before, so life is beginning again.

Joy Update 9/6

Today I actually made it to see the allergist. He amazingly helped create the immunization therapy for honey bee allergies back in the 1970s at Johns Hopkins. Definitely the right guy to see. He's actually seen others with the hypersensitive anaphylactic shock reaction like mine despite how rare it is to see. He said to expect these lingering symptoms for about two months (numb skin, vision/hearing differences, headaches, weakness, fatigue, blood pressure issues, foggy brain, random sharp pains...etc). Not that this is a good thing to hear as I definitely don't like the idea of feeling like this for that long, but it's nice to know these weird things I'm feeling are kinda "normal." I just have to put up with them, and ask other people (and myself) for patience as I get back to being more Joy-like again. The doctor definitely recommended I go through immunization treatments starting in December as I am so sensitive it would be quite careless not to take that precaution against the possibility of getting stung again. Those consist of weekly treatments for about 20 weeks (for a case like mine where they have to increase the dose very slowly) and then monthly for 2-3 years. This would then last about 5 years until I would need to do any further treatments. Ah the fun to look forward to. Silly little bees, causing all kinds of trouble. Now I'm off to sleep again. Thanks everyone for the well wishes, prayers and thoughts!

Joy Update 9/4

Today I spent a long time at the doctor's office and lab which wiped me out. Good news is that my heart and kidney are okay. They think the enormous dose of adrenaline that was pumped into me may have temporarily messed up my adrenal glands from producing enough regularly. Should regulate over time and waiting on more tests to know details. This afternoon/evening took a turn up. My friend Valerie Testa came up and brought delicious tomatoes and cucumber from her gardens. Just what I needed - both the visit and the veggies. Gave me some great energy for the evening. Today was the first day I did not have a fever ALL DAY! I also started feeling much more myself this evening. I missed me a bit, so it was good to see her back. Bit by bit I'm gonna win this race.

Joy Update 9/3

Fever subsided for the majority of today. I can only handle incredibly limited activity before I feel weak, dizzy/light-headed and nauseated, but today was an improvement at least. I've taken a field trip to my mom's house for the evening. Slumber party!!

Joy Update 9/2

Today was better than yesterday. Off the steroids, on the antihistamines. Sleep is less broken, so feels more restful. Crazy dreams. Takes many hours horizontal to recover from a few minutes vertical, but at least I got up a bit today. G'night!

Joy Update 8/30

I successfully laundered my sheets and got them back on my bed. It's been an all day event, but it's nice to have accomplished something. I'm trying to do a bit here and there between naps - working to keep resting, but also build up my endurance for existing out of bed. My body is pretty good at telling me when to shut it down.

Joy Update 8/28

Still have a low grade constant fever, headache and constant gross sweating, but am feeling less foggy in the head and less achy all over. I seem to be able to do something for about 30 minutes and then crash hard. Steroids are definitely helping. Doctors orders are lots more rest. I'm happy to obey

This is my first year beekeeping. There are all kinds of things you learn in your first year. Not just how to identify what's going on in the hive, and how to manage your bees, but you learn all the stupid things you can do around a hive. I've knelt on bees while installing them and got stung, put my finger directly on a bee to pick up a frame - stung again. Pissed them off by going in at the wrong time of day and had to leave running. Not made my smoker last long enough so I'm in a hive and realize I need smoke only to see it's out and have to go running. These are things that happen. They are all stupid and can be avoided by going incredibly slowly and being very thoughtful, having back up plans, triple checking things before moving forward and communicating with your mentor more often and before going into your hive (maybe even going in with him/her).

Getting stung is kind of inevitable as a beekeeper. It's hard to avoid it completely, especially initially because as a newbie you're kind of clumsy and unaware. So people learn how they react. What many people don't realize is that reactions can change. With bee stings every reaction can either desensitize you or sensitize you on the spectrum of reactions. This means the more you get stung, the closer you can be towards having a fatal reaction or to being that much more able to handle stings. You may see other beekeepers who have been doing this a while be all badassy getting stung all the time and not having a problem with it. When you see this know that YOU ARE NOT THERE! Getting stung is a big deal and should be avoided as much as possible. Using gloves is not a sissy thing to do. Wearing a full suit doesn't make you a prude. It makes you careful. If you want to keep beekeeping, it is best for your bees if you don't get stung. Also, don't be embarrassed if you start to have a reaction. Every reaction matters. Pay attention to your body for the hour after you get stung and notice if anything odd happens. If something happens, recognize that it could be from the sting. Don't try to talk yourself in to blaming something else so easily. If you do that, it could mean a worse fate the next time.

This week, on Tuesday, I got to help a friend remove a hive from under floorboards at a house. It was such a cool thing to help with. A huge hive completely established under the closet floor. I was in heaven helping out. It was so huge that it was taking forever. We were in our suits, with no air conditioning, on the second floor for about five hours. I had also just been at a regatta in Philly being outside running around like crazy the weekend before. I wasn't fully recovered from that. Then I got stung on my knee. About 30 minutes after that I started feeling really flushed, faint and had a pounding headache. It felt kind of like a dehydration headache. All this would make sense since I hadn't drunk anything that morning since we got there. So, I got some Ibprofen, water and sat in the AC of the truck for a bit. I felt my heart race a little, but I figured I was just really overheated. After about an hour I was good to go. Felt totally fine again and was back at work helping out. No one thought anything of it, and I have to say I was a little embarrassed.

Thinking back - that was an anaphylactic reaction. It wasn't shock, but it was a full body, systemic reaction and I 100% blame it on the sting in hindsight. I was too proud, embarrassed and confused to blame the sting at the time. After all, I hadn't had a reaction before so why would I have one now. Why would I, all of a sudden, now fall into the 2% of people who have a severe reaction to bees? Surely something else was to blame.

Now let's go to Thursday. I was planning to run this Tough Mudder race on Saturday. Last time I was planning to race on the weekend and went into my hives on the Thursday before I ended up with a sting on my finger that effected my ability to perform a little bit at the race. Therefore, I was a little worried I might get stung somewhere that would effect my ability to race. However, it was such a cool opportunity to learn more about working hives and do some fun beekeeping with my two best "beeks" that I couldn't turn it down. The plan was to move six hives from a couple locations up to the farm I now live on which was an agreement Steve Repasky made with the new owner of the farm. All in all it meant moving about a million bees. It's best to move the hives at night as they are all at home, so you don't leave half the hive at the previous location. We started in Baldwin, strapped up the hives, duct taped the entrances got them loaded. No one got stung.

Bees move differently at night. They crawl more than fly - this is something I did not know as a new beekeeper. This was my first experience working with bees at night. If a bee lands on your shoe, you might not notice, but it can crawl up you. They don't fly off your clothes, they more sit there so you have to triple check your jacket…etc before taking it off to make sure there aren't any there.

Next stop was the Burgh Bees Community Apiary in Homewood to get the other hives. We pulled up and started working. Smoking the bees that were bearding on the hives to get them to go inside. Strapping them up. We didn't duct tape this bunch because there were a lot of bees still on the outside of the hives. Got everything loaded and we were about to be off.

I wear, from bottom to top, full sneakers, socks, jeans with cuffs holding the bottom of the jeans closed around my ankles, tshirt, and jacket with veil, and gloves. This time I realized, after I got stung on each ankle that I wasn't wearing long enough socks and my cuffs weren't done up low enough. This meant that there was just the slightest gap exposing my skin and the crawling bees that ended up on my shoe got me. After I'd taken off my gear and decided it's best for me to get in the truck to wait for Steve and Nate to finish up, I got stung on my left hand by grabbing my jacket and not realizing a bee was still on it - stung again, rookie error. It was pitch black, no lights, and at this point raining with thunder. It was a little chaotic. I was a little concerned since I got stung 3 times and that's the most I've been stung at one time.

Nate comes in and says he got stung four times and that six is his maximum that he'll put up with tonight. I start to feel better. Steve also has about four stings at this point. No big deal right? This is what beekeepers do, right?

A couple minutes later as we are leaving and going over Highland Park Bridge I tell Steve that I feel weird. He asks if my hands and feet are tingling. I say yes and that I'm feeling dizzy. Immediately he slams the accelerator, tells Nate to call 911 and that we are going to the hospital. Quick reaction on his part that completely saved my life. While driving about 90mph up Route 28, Steve tries to explain to me how to use an epi pen - something I have never been trained to do, or seen in person. I'm barely holding on at this point, super dizzy, feeling my throat closing up, trying to focus on getting any kind of air through this tiny straw that my throat has become. Needless to say, I'm useless at dealing with the epi pen and drop it - setting it off and bending the needle. Damn.

The rest of this story is a compilation from doctors, nurses, Steve, Nate and myself. My short version of it is pretty quick - I passed out, I woke up. The longer version is pretty graphic.

Steve and Nate arranged to meet the ambulance at some corner parking lot in Etna. Close to hospitals and easy to find. While waiting, Steve had me sitting in the truck seat, feet on the ground with my head against his chest. He was trying to keep my chest up to get air as all my body wanted to do was fall down. At this point I'm vomiting, dry heaving, weezing (repeat). Then he props me up, tells me to open my eyes and look at him, focus on my breathing. It might've been this moment (or an earlier moment in the truck) when I remember focusing on my breathing and freaking out about not getting air. Then I realized that just a few more attempts and I'd be done - that would be it and I'd be dead, no more struggling. It was in that moment that I thought, "suffocation might not be a bad way to go after all." Then my eyes rolled back in my head and I collapsed in Steve's arms. Note: this story, at this point becomes more traumatic for my friends than anyone else as they saw the worst of everything. I'm sure I'll be paying for their PTSD treatment later on in the year.

An Etna cop pulled up casually to the scene first. Threatened to burn the hives in Steve's truck immediately and really wasn't helpful, only combative. Then a blue/white UPMC paramedic car pulled up followed by an ambulance. The ambulance EMTs were moving pretty slowly, but the guy in the UPMC car was on it. He saw me immediately and got everyone rushing around. They got me on the gurney and into the truck and were peppering me with shots while one guy put an IV in both my hands and connected me to a bunch of machines. Epinephrin, Steroids, Benedryl (repeat). Steve said it looked like there were about 30 empty syringes or more scattered on the floor of the ambulance and my arms ended up looking like Mr Scisserhands. Not to mention the fact that I'm still vomiting and now wetting myself as my body loses control. A bee ended up in the ambulance and stung one of the paramedics on his thumb - oh the irony.

At this point Steve and Nate leave to get the hives back to the apiary. Lynnetta met them there to unload the poor confused bees, but better that then showing up at the hospital with a million bees in tow. By the time they get to St Margaret's Hospital to meet the greeter in the ER they find I've only been there about 13 minutes. Meaning the ambulance EMTs were working on me a while in the lot before leaving. The greeter at the ER was a very nice lady in probably her 60s or 70s. She offered to find out what was going on and went back to talk to the doctors. She came back and told the guys that I was unresponsive and that they were about to intubate me. Talk about freak out moment for my friends! At some point, the guys (now named the bee farmers) were just let back in to the room with the other about 20 people in the room. Doctors, Nurses, Residents, Aides, this was an all hands on deck experience. HIPAA goes out the window and I really couldn't care less.

They were still pumping epi in to me at record rate while they are cutting off my shirt. Ultimately, the doctor said he used eight times as much epinephrin than he's ever used on a patient. They had the pulp fiction heart slamming pure epi needle out ready to use as soon as my heart stopped beating - an 8 inch enormous gauge needle that's sole job is to puncture the heart and deliver a full dose of strong and pure adrenaline, the "Hail Mary" last ditch effort save.  At this point I'm under 70% oxygen saturation and they are planning to intubate. At the moment the nurse is about to intubate, somehow I wake up. I look up, see the gorgeous ginger haired, white skinned Melinda above me with a huge tube about to enter my mouth and I ask "Who are you?" Everyone stops, smiles and cheers erupt. I'm awake. They didn't have to intubate, my heart did not stop. Amazing. At this point they give me a terrible Potassium drink and tell me to down it. I obey and boy was it gross. If you ever have to go through this, request it mixed with grape juice, definitely not ginger ale - a trick I learned later in my ICU stay. From then on for the next 20 hours they wouldn't let me drink or eat anything in case they needed to intubate still. For the record, the doctors tell me that one epi injection wouldn't have done much for my reaction as I needed enough for an elephant to do any good. Makes me feel a little less bad for dropping Steve's epi pen in the truck.

Once I'm just slightly more awake, my first reaction is to get my phone and text my tough mudder friends to say I won't be able to run on Saturday. I'm ridiculous and obviously need to rethink my priorities. Steve calls my mother and calmly tells her I'm okay, but that I'm in the hospital after having an allergic reaction to a sting. She didn't really find out the full of it until next next day from the nurse in ICU. What happens next I don't really remember. I have small pictures here and there about what happened. I know Steve and Nate stayed until I was rolled up to ICU. I remember one of the nurses asking me if I was still going to be a beekeeper and I said "of course." I remember cracking some hilarious jokes. I remember a lot of happy faces.

My nurse in ICU that night was super attentive. Autumn - she was the best. I kept wondering why she never left my side. I couldn't imagine I was as bad off as some people I've seen in ICU, but I really didn't know what all happened to me. They are still pumping me with epi (adrenaline), steroids, and benadryl like crazy. The adrenaline made my body shake violently and continuously, but was necessary to prevent a secondary shock reaction due to the venom still being in my system. The nurse said I'd feel like I ran a marathon the next day and boy did I.  They talked about my EKG and how there was some prolonged part of it that they were worried about - something that the anaphylaxis had caused. They were worried about my lungs and my oxygenation. The journey definitely wasn't over. They were also trying to pump me with Magnesium and Potassium. Going through my veins burned them out meaning they ended up giving me 5 different IVs, and drinking it meant complications intubating if that was still needed later on. So many doctors with different plans. I couldn't keep it straight. There were concerns over my thin blood - something I've known about but that's never been diagnosed. It's why I bruise so easily. There was concern over how low my resting heart rate was, and how they couldn't stabilize my blood pressure. There was just a lot of concern.

Friday, about 24 hours after everything happened, the epi started giving me amazing pain. I felt like my head was going to burst. I would curl up, hold my head and just scream. I did not think my skull could hold my brain blood vessels in - it was obvious they wanted to burst. The nurse hit the pause button on the IV. I took note. She called the doctor and he said to continue the same drip. Same effect - this time, I hit the pause button and refused to receive the dose. The nurse called the doctor back. I heard her say something about the possibility of me stroking out. To which I reacted "I don't want to have a stroke too!" They discussed lowering it - halving the quantity. This worked. Then about five hours later the same thing. I hit pause, the nurse called the doctor, they halved it again. The last time, they took me off completely. Next to be removed from my system came the benadryl and finally the steroids. After I was clear of all drugs, that's when my body really cramped up. All those shakes, all those sticks - my body was over this trip. I couldn't lie in bed anymore. So I stood, stretched, marched in place - anything to get my muscles moving without leaving the confines of the machines I was connected to. All of this was very strange for the nurses as I was still in ICU and patients in ICU normally can't get to the bathroom unassisted, and stand, and talk to friends and have visitors. Every single rounds they did, the doctors emphasized that they have no idea how I survived, how they have never seen someone as sick as me come in and live, that they have never seen a worse case of anaphylactic shock, how lucky I am to be as fit and strong as I am because most other people wouldn't have been able to handle the trauma let alone that much medicine at a time.

I have no idea how I survived. I don't know why I survived. I'm glad I did. To me, I passed out and woke up. It felt weird hearing the gory details. The ups and downs of it all. I went into shock and I woke up - right? The doctors and nurses sure made it hard to forget how lucky I was. The faces of my friends telling the story, the trauma in their eyes as they say "I would've preferred not to have experienced this," tell a very memorable tale.

It was amazing having visitors. I was so sad about what all had happened, and the fact that I was losing a hobby that had brought me so much fun and so many friends. Having Steve come by and talk through what happened and talk about next steps for me with helping with education for beekeeping and other treatment options for dealing with the allergy. Devon coming by to talk about how I can be involved in advocacy still. Becca coming by to show her tremendous support. My mom bringing me clothes, and food, and drinks. Erica coming by to spend some QT with me. Doug, one of my previous rowers (also a pastor) coming and sharing scripture and praying for me, Mick bringing flowers. My EMM team sending flowers in the shape of a dog! Judy bringing me a great lunch. Then there were the Facebook messages. Given I was on FB probably far too much through this ordeal, but it was so nice to feel the presence of all the people in my life. Text messages that were so kind. Snap chats that cracked me up. Then my tough mudder team did the entire course Saturday with a picture of my face on a stick! Support came in all forms and from all directions.

I was really lucky. I was really amazingly lucky. It was inevitable that I would've had this anaphylactic reaction the next time I got stung. That next time, if it wasn't moving hives on this night could've been me going into my hives alone. I could've had a reaction, passed out and been found a couple hours later dead. If I hadn't had someone with me this could've been much worse. If my friends and I didn't recognize the symptoms and just kept going I'd be dead. If the ambulance had taken a minute longer, I could be dead. If we had gone straight to the hospital instead of an ambulance, I might've died because the hospital wouldn't have been prepared. On the other hand, if I had realized my anaphylactic reaction (not shock) on Tuesday, I would have stopped going into hives then and not waited to experience the full blown anaphylactic shock experience two days later.

I do not blame the bees. Honey bees aren't attack bees. Just like someone doesn't blame the peanut or the shrimp if they have those allergies. I should've seen the warning signs from previous stings. I should've been more careful and attentive. All of that could have prevented getting stung as much, and also could have stopped me earlier on as soon as I noticed any kind of systemic reaction.

I am very much so still processing this event. It was such heightened trauma followed by kind of a normal, sore walking away from the hospital day. What do I do now? Do I just go back to work like nothing happened? What are these lingering pains I have all over my body? Do I need to see more doctors? How do I carry an epi-pen with me everywhere? How do I handle my brain wandering to the what if I had died, what if I had a stroke, what if, what ifs? How do I feel about how I reacted to dying - it seemed like no big deal, there was no terror? What does all of this mean? How deep do I want to go in this rabbit hole? I don't know.

What I do know for sure is that I'm loved, that I have a purpose, and that I am deathly allergic to bees. I have to start small and figure the rest out on my own time.

*Update: I found out later from my medical records that they had me on a 16mg per hour drip of adrenaline/epinephrine in ICU. This is the dose they started to cut back on when I got the massive headaches. A typical dose is 0.3mg from an epipen and perhaps a few more 0.1 injections at the hospital.
**2015 Update: I have been diagnosed with Systemic Mastocytosis which is a histamine/mast cell problem with my skin, blood and bone marrow. It means I have aggressive allergic reactions to all allergens (and things high in histamine including foods, alcohol..etc). Who knows if I had this slightly before this incident, but what is clear is that this incident made it worse.
***2016 Update: I got stung by a bee and didn't die! Gave myself my epipen and chugged liquid benedryl within 30 seconds. Was at a rowing regatta, so also was able to get oxygen within 60 seconds (after some running to get to the medic tent). Was at the hospital within 20 minutes for observation before going home. Very glad to know I can survive a sting. My tryptase levels were through the roof from it for a while (thanks mastocytosis...)