A bee turned me into a grumpy left-handed human for a bit.

Recently I was stung by a bee. I am quite sure that it was a bee and not a yellow jacket - I see them by the side of the pool sometimes. I did not see this one - I reached out to take a breather, felt fire take over my pinky, and heard myself curse. It's been a while since my last bee-stinging experience was personal. I've been around many cases when my little Benadryl+pain management pen helped others and I knew how to talk someone through what is happening when it might stop hurting this much and how a promise on some ice cream helps. But I did not have the medicine with me this time. Self-talk quickly turned into self-observation. I was surprised by how outraged I felt at this act of a fair case of self-defense, how I cataloged all the tingling and swelling and numbness and pain, and how much time I spent checking if the bulge was gone and if I could fold my finger. How much I knew that this is blown out of proportion if taken in any sort of perspective. And how real it was at the same time. And I ended up drawing it. But since it was the right hand that was affected - I drew this whole page with the left one. 

And while I drew my shirt I realized that it needs to be patched - which is something that I decided to draw next :)