poor michael

 

So Last Sunday night I was up with Lucy at 12:30, 1:30, 3:00, 5:00 and 6:45.  We had just gotten back to sleep around 7 when Michael came running in the bedroom screaming.  I was able to suspend my anger that he woke us up long enough to hear "Ughh! There's a bee in my hair!".  And indeed, there it was a live bee caught in his hair.  I pulled it out and then killed another one that had followed him in.  He had been taking out the garbage cans and was jogging back in when he encountered a bee/hornet nest next to our driveway.  We figure he was stung 5 times.  The worst one was next to his eye.

These pictures were taken Monday.  On Tuesday it was much worse.  His right eye was completely closed and his left eye was most of the way closed.  He looked like Quasimodo.  Lucy kept staring at him trying to figure him out.  He stayed home from work on Tuesday and on Wednesday my dad drove him to work.   Frank sprayed the nest with a whole can of Raid but they wouldn't die so my dad hit them again.  They're still out there plotting our destruction.  

Then when the swelling went down the wrists got really bad.  He couldn't move them at all.  On Sunday I had two children.  I had to make his food and feed him.  Monday morning I showered him, shaved his face, brushed his teeth, got him dressed.  He was so sweet, he kept saying "I hope I'm not a burden". Then my dad drove him to work again.  Poor little soul.  The best part was watching him try to put his pants on without using his hands.