The difficulty in splitting these hives is (unfortunately) the frames we've been using. Adam switched to simple "top-bar" frames in his hives a few years back. They are so easy to make -- just one piece of wood that lays across the top of the box. The bees make the comb, drawing it down from that top bar. They don't need frames with wood on all four sides, and they really hate the fake plastic comb foundation that some beekeepers put inside the frame.
|Adam is now making new frames with side bars.|
Bees attach their comb to the top-bar, but they also like to attach their comb to the side. And since these top-bar frames don't have sides, the bees attached their comb to the sides of the boxes! Argh! That's a headache. Adam realized he'd made a mistake in using top-bars. He had lovely frames of bees that he couldn't move anywhere!! So he's begun adapting his old top-bars, adding sides to them.
But some hives were getting crowded. We didn't want them to swarm. We can't split them. What to do? He decided to add an empty box underneath, on each of the crowded hives.
I was stung on the forehead by a bee. I've been stung by bees quite a few times. I usually get a little swelling, itch, and by the next day it's gone. I did have a more severe reaction about 6 months ago to a bee sting. Remember? It was on my left hand, quite swollen, but not too alarming.
This bee sting on the forehead was another matter. I thought nothing of it at first. A little swelling. I put some salve plantain on it, and then some baking soda paste. Still ... it swelled. By evening, my face looked like this:
Later that evening, my eyes were just slits:
I didn't want to go to the doctor. I hate going for medical help.My general approach to medical help is this: 1) Usually you know if it's a true medical emergency: gaping wound, broken bone, blood everywhere, or unconsciousness. (But a bee sting? Really?) 2) If it's not an obvious emergency, I try ignore all tendencies to panic, treat the condition, observe closely, and assume the body will heal itself. So I wait. I told Adam, if it wasn't better in the morning, we would go in to a clinic nearby. The next morning:
Yep. Now I get to carry an epi pen with me in my purse everywhere I go. What a pain! (And yes, I do know they are life-savers, and I'm very thankful to have one.) I'm used to being a healthy girl, with no chronic, dangerous health conditions. I guess those days are over. And by the way -- all those other meds left me with a copay of about $20 together. The epi pen? $270. Sigh.
My face is quite improved, although nowhere near normal. I can see again. When I arrived at the clinic, I had a slit of vision in only one eye. Last night I went to my friend's house for an evening of Mexican Train Dominoes ... because if your best buddies can't love you when your face is scary, who will?