Honey and Colds

Mostly this blog is dedicated to Bee Venom Therapy (BVT)--i.e. using bee venom as medicine since that's what I use to treat myself.  But BVT is really only a small part of apitherapy.  Apitherapy uses all sorts of honeybee products for health and healing.

And since so many of us currently have colds, I thought it pertinent to discuss how honey can help us alleviate our misery. 

You are probably already aware that you can put a spoonful of honey in hot water or tea to calm a sore throat.  Simply swallowing a spoonful helps with sore throats as well as coughs.

One of the things I learned about while I was at the Charles Mraz Apitherapy Conference in New Orleans was using a honey solution much in the same way that you use a *neti pot.  The point is that you want to draw the honey through your nasal cavity until you can taste it  in the back of your throat.

This site recommends using a propolis/honey solution, but you can do it with straight honey if you want to.  Just get some on a q-tip and swab it up there, then lay on your back until you can taste it.

Given that I am at the point where I have two tissues twisted up and crammed into my nostrils, I think it's time for me to give this technique a try. 

Why does it work?

First, there's an enzyme in raw honey called glucose oxidase.  When the honey comes into contact with your mucous membranes, hydrogen peroxide is produced, which kills any germs that it comes into contact with.  But you MUST USE UNPASTURIZED HONEY.  Pasturized honey is inferior because heating honey cooks the beneficial enzymes right out of it.

It seems redundant to pasturize the stuff anyway.  It is already antiviral, anti-bacterial, and anti-fungal.  Nothing can grow in it.  That's the reason it is so good for treating wounds.   

I ran into quite a bit of misinformation when I was researching this topic.  One of those things was that honey contains hydrogen peroxide, which it does not.  Honey produces H2O2 when placed in the correct conditions, which are pH level of 5.5-8.0 and sodium.  Honey on its own can't spontaneously generate H2O2, so it isn't right to say that honey contains the molecule.  Where can you find this perfect storm of sodium and pH?  Wounds and mucous membranes. 

Please don't go snort a spoonful of peroxide as a substitute.  That's far too strong to put into your poor snotty fossa. The brilliant thing about honey is that it slowly releases the peroxide, so it's beneficial to you for several hours, not just immediately.

Another misconception is that only Manuka honey can be used for medicinal purposes.   Manuka honey is like super honey when it comes to treating wounds, and kills MRSA to boot, but any unpasturized honey can be used to treat wounds.

 

*Let's address all this business about people getting the brain eating amoeba from their neti pots, shall we? They were using tap water.  Fine to drink, BUT NOT FINE TO PUT UP YOUR NOSE.  Had they boiled their water or used distilled water, they would have been fine.  When you wash your neti pot in tap water, LET IT DRY COMPLETELY, and then let it sit for a little while to ensure that no bacteria survive on it's surfaces.

Honey, being anti-viral, anti-bacterial, AND anti-fungal, would probably keep those little brain eaters at bay.  However.  If you need to water your honey down a little bit before cleaning your nasal passages with it, use water that has been boiled (let it cool first please) or distilled.  The organisms shouldn't be able to live or reproduce in the honey, but hey--let's not take chances with this one, yes?

It's All Fun And Games Until Someone Loses An Eye

Betcha didn't know this--there's actually such a thing as poisonous honey.  It's also called mad honey, and it causes all sorts of problems if you eat it.

It is caused by a substance called grayanotoxin, which comes from... dun Dun DUN... Rhododendron, and related plants including azaleas and laurel. 

The main source of "mad honey" is in Turkey near the Black Sea, where, at least according to these people,  it seems as though rhododendron are something of a pest.  It also occurs in North America, but please don't go digging the rhododendron out of your yard or public park just yet.  In order for the bees to produce toxic honey, the plant has to be the dominant vegetation in the area.  Honey which includes nectar from a couple of garden ornamentals isn't going to hurt you as long as it is made predominantly from something else. 

Not every type of rhododendron produces grayanotoxin.  There are two types, *subgenera Rhododendron luteum, is an azalea which has yellow blooms (I have never ever seen yellow azalea, not even in the south).  They look a lot like lilies to me:

The other subgenera is Rhododendron ponticum.  Both subgenera have grayanotoxin in their nectar, but R. ponticum is the more dangerous of the two.  It has an invasive growth pattern and will take over an area, hence the earlier link to the forestry article.   Of course, higher concentrations of the plant in an area means a more likely incidence of mad honey.

R. catawbiense are the kind that cover the Appalachian mountains.  As far as I can tell, they are included in the ponticum part of the family.  I think that they also have grayanotoxin, but I'm not positive about that.

Just what does this mad honey nonsense do?  Typically effects last fewer than 24 hours, which is good because they include dizziness, nausea & vomiting, excessive sweating, and more severely--a slowing of the heartbeat.  And of course, we can't forget the stark raving crazies.  It can be fatal, but usually it isn't and is supposedly safe(ish) in low doses.

But why ever would one intentionally consume it?

This entry wouldn't be complete if I left out these folks.  The number one reason that people knowingly buy the stuff is becuase it is rumored to be a sexual performance enhancer.  But is it an aphrodesiac?  Is it like a natural viagra?  Do you have to call the doctor if your boner doesn't subside after 3 hours?

*****

Okay, this is totally not related to ANYTHING in this blog, but I found it when I was searching for pictures of Turkey's Black Sea coastline, and I think it's beautiful so I'm sharing.

*****

Xenophon  describe THE DEFEAT OF AN ARMY at the hands of mad honey.  "The Defeat of the Ten Thousand" occured in 430 BC somewhere in modern Turkey (I think).

Strabo says that they gave the army the honey intentionally:

"For they mixed bowls of the crazing honey that the branches of trees yield and placed them in the roads.  Then when the soldiers drank the mixture and lost their senses, they attacked them and easily disposed of them."

One of the Pliny's said something about it too, but frankly, at present I am feeling too lazy to do anymore historical sleuthing.  But if you want to carpe the diem, I think it's somewhere in here.

And finally, speaking of someone losing an eye, this is an Asian Giant Hornet.  They're about 2" long with a 6mm stinger.  Why anyone would purposely hold one of these things in his hand is beyond me.

 

* A subgenera is in between genus and species.  As a high-school freshman, my science teacher taught us a mnemonic device for remembering the hierarchy of biological taxonomy.  

 Teach it to your kids too.  They'll remember.   Oh, how they'll remember.

Kingdom Phylum Class Order Family Genus Species = King Phillip Can Only F**k Girls Slowly

Injectable Bee Venom

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you probably know that I get my bees from my friend Earl, who lives right up the street.  But winter is coming on, and that means cold, wind, and rain.  In turn, that means bees clustering in the bottom of the hive, not near the top where I get them from.  It's already hard enough for me to get my own bees.  I have to go to the bee yard at least twice a week, and psychologically it's a bit like having to pick my own switch. Don't get me wrong--I like going out to the bee yard.  But sometimes I don't feel like it, and then I don't sting within my 72 hour window, and the BVT isn't as effective as it should be.

So to secure an additional source of bees I mail ordered some from a place called Allen's Bee Ranch in Redding, CA. They should arrive today! This will be a good option for me as well if I need to travel, because I can just have the bees sent to my destination, and they will be waiting for me!

I also want to give injectable bee venom a try.  My source says that live bee venom is 100% potent in the spring and summer (when the weather is warm and they can forage from good pollen sources) but only 25%-35% potent in the winter.  Injectable bee venom, also called Apitoxin, is around 85%-90% potentcy.  Of course, these numbers are approximate, because some bees have more potent venom than others for various reasons--even bees in the same hive.  But the point is that in the winter, injectable venom might be preferable to live venom.  It also will be much more convenient.

In any case, I would like to have different options available to me so that I don't have an excuse not to sting.  I try to be committed to it, but sometimes it is really difficult, especially now that I do so many stings per session.  

Here's a video showing how bee venom is harvested using an electronic venom collector.  I have to warn you though--the music will really get you going.  As in, you'll want to adventure on the high seas like a pirate or something after watching this video.  Additionally, if you have a coke problem, you probably shouldn't watch it.  You'll see what I'm talking about. 

The thing is, for me to procure ampules of bee venom, I need a doctor.  I don't necessarily need a prescription, but here's what the website states as their requirement:

"Powdered and liquid bee venom orders must be received in writing on the letterhead of a medical practitioner, pharmacist, researcher or a laboratory that is certified to work with chemicals."

My rheumatologist might be willing to help me with this, but I don't know.  I'm kind of afraid to ask her.  I'm thinking about putting something a request up on Craigslist.  Or possibly one of the doctors who I met at the AAS conference in New Orleans would lend a hand.  Or maybe one of you, my dear and faithful readers, has a doctor or a researcher friend...   

Hook a girl up.  In the name of science and adventure. 

Stinging other People

As I was falling asleep last night, I realized that I had forgotten to include something very important on my last entry.  While I was on Ocracoke, I stung two other people!!!

There *is* a bit of safety protocol that I skipped over, of which doubtless my friends at the AAS would disapprove, and that is the test sting.  Before stinging a new patient, an apitherapist is supposed to deliver a quick sting on the back of the wrist and remove it immediately.  Then you wait 10-20 minutes to make sure that no adverse reaction develops.  After that, you can proceed.  I just asked them if they had been stung by a bee before and were they sure that they weren't allergic.  They both said no, they'd been stung many times as children and they were not allergic.  I warned them that they would swell and itch for a few days, as they aren't acclimated to the venom, but that would go away.

My aunt Kathleen, an extremely talented metalsmith and jewelry designer,  has arthritis in the fore-knuckle of her right index finger.  Her shop, incidentally, is the house where I lived when I was a brand new person, except that it was red and white back in '78.

As an artist,  I've really been influenced by her very organic aesthetic.  At that time, her studio was in her house, and she had the most beautiful stones, metals, bones, glass, etc.    Here's my favorite piece that she's ever made.  It's called "Toy for a Child of Doom".

Leslie and I were having lunch at Jason's, where we ran into Kathleen, and she asked me to come by her shop the next day and sting her.  We did a quick sting on her finger--didn't leave the stinger in for too long since fingers can be such a sensitive place.  There are LOTS of nerve endings there.  The only place I think is worse is the palms of the hands, soles of the feet, and toes.  Toes are TERRIBLE.  Last time I did my toes, I had intermittent involuntary kicking spasms for about 30 minutes.


The second person was a lady named Margarita who helps my grandmother sometimes.  She was actually familiar with bee stinging as medicine, because her father had arthritis in his elbow.  She told me that when he would find a bee, he would catch it, place it on his elbow, sting.

Margarita is from Mexico, which is relevant, because I think that in Mexico, using BVT is a common folk remedy. Samuel told me about a friend of his who works for an apiary that employs lots of Mexicans, and each day, before beginning work, they estimate the physical difficulty of the labor.   Based on that, they decide how many bees to use, and they sting each other on the back, like a little pre-emptive steroid.

Like her father,  Margarita was having elbow issues, although in her case, it is tennis elbow, not arthritis.  I had offered to sting her earlier, but she had declined.  However, as I was packing my car to head back to Raleigh, she asked me if I would sting her.

Talk about a champ.  When I stung her, she didn't even flinch.  Her expression never changed.  She never sucked in her breath, grimaced, anything.  I had to ask her if it hurt, to which she replied yes, but I was impressed.

Aunt Kathleen says that her finger is better!  I don't know how my other "patient" is faring though.  I'll have to ask Granny next time I call.

Traveling with Bees

 Recently I flew back to North Carolina for an emergency trip to see my paternal grandfather, who was in the final weeks of his life.  I got the call on a Monday that I needed to be there within two weeks if I wanted to see him, so I purchased my ticket and flew out at 6:15 on Thursday morning--Thanksgiving Day.

The only time I've traveled since beginning with the bees in April is to New Orleans, and that was an apitherapy conference.  Which meant that I didn't have to worry about procuring bees.

But a last-minute trip with virtually no planning time is a different story.  I'm not supposed to go more than 72 hours without stinging, and I had a week in NC.  And while I didn't ask, I made a pretty reasonable assumption that I could not bring a jar of bees on the plane.  Can you imagine trying to go through airport security with a jar of live bees?

Or what if I actually made it aboard, but then the jar broke mid-flight and 60 bees+ (I'm up to 20 stings per session 3x weekly now) spewed into the cabin and cockpit, wreaking havoc? 

After a little research, I called Dr. David Tarpy at NCSU, but as I was flying in on Thanksgiving day, there was no way for us to coordinate.  And no students were going to be at the NCSU apiculture lab, as it was vacation time.  I hope I can visit their facility next time I come home though.  It seems like it would be an interesting way to spend a couple of hours.

Luckily for me, a friend recommended Monica and Todd Warner, who have in Apiary in Youngsville, NC--about 20 minutes north of Raleigh.   I explained to Monica how I "package" my bees, and on my way out to the island on Friday, I swung by her place.  She had gathered about 100 bees in a jar for which she'd also made a mesh lid so that they could breathe.  I placed the jar in my pocketbook so that it wouldn't roll around during the drive, and commenced the 6 hour journey to Ocracoke.

I had to stop a few times for water, groceries,  and pee-breaks.  I did all of these things with a jar of aggitated bees buzzing in my bag.  Some women carry little dogs in their purses.  Me?  Bees.  Turns out, it's probably a good thing that my cel-phone broke before I left.  Hell, I don't get reception on the island anyway.

The other thing I needed was someone to sting me.  My long-time friend Leslie stepped up to the plate.  The weather was beautiful pretty much the whole time I was there, so we did the stings on the back porch of her book store, where I used to work for a couple of summers while I was in college.  

 Leslie did AWESOME.  Saturday morning was the first time.  I did the first six stings on my hands myself to show her, and then she did the remaining 14.  As the stingee, I've been doing this for long enough that I don't really get nervous (although anticipating the stings is often unpleasant).  But it can be nervewracking for the stinger, especially the first time.  Reaching into a jar of bees with a long set of tweezers isn't exactly a relaxing past-time.  Leslie was very brave throughout the process.  Then, when she did the last sting, she was so relieved that it was over that she cried.  We did it twice more while I was there, and she handled those bees like a pro.

I want to say something about what kind of friend Leslie is.  My poppy was in the final stages of cancer.  It had spread through his entire body, and I knew that he was going to look bad.  I didn't know how bad, but when you only see an older person once a year, the changes from one visit to the next can be...dramatic.  I wanted to be strong for him, but I was afraid that I break down in tears the moment I walked in the door from seeing him suffering so much and from knowing that I was going to lose him soon.

So when I got off the ferry, I first drove to Leslie's shop, and asked her if she would go with me to my grandparents' house.  She let me know that she'd heard from people who went up there that he seemed to be in pretty good spirits, and was enjoying the company.  Just knowing this helped me to be more relaxed.  Then we went together, and I was able to keep it together.  Which helped me be confident that I could keep it together for the entirety of the trip.  I had a few moments where I had to go sit in my car and compose myself, but that's only natural.

Leslie, you were really there for me when I needed you, and I don't think that words can express just how much I appreciate your friendship. 

My Poppy passed away in the wee hours of Wednesday morning.  It was December 7--Pearl Harbor Day.  Today was his funeral.  It made me very sad to miss it.  I was told that the church was packed.  People were standing against the walls on the sides and the back.  People were packed into the space traditionally reserved for the choir.  People were outside.  I know it must have been a beautiful service, because that room was overflowing with love.

Poppy, I will miss you so much.    You will always be in my heart.
RIP Ronald Thomas "Conk" O'Neal
November 2, 1929-December 7, 2011

Katherine! What are you DOING?!

My friend Dusty Paik MADE ME A MOVIE!!!!!!!  When I awoke at 4am this morning (New Orleans jet lag plus the time change) there was a little prezzie on my phone :-)  I like it so much that it's making me tear up.  You will too.






Here she is--go visit her Etsy store!!

Scabby McStingsalot and The Dork Forest

Jackie Kashian does an educational interview about beekeeping for her podcast show, The Dork Forest.  They discuss everything from bears to knitting to bee diarrhea.  How can you bee-t that?  

There's this one drawback to bee stings that I never really considered when I started--I kind of look like an intravenous drug user.   My hands and spine especially are covered in little scabs and marks, and my hands are slightly puffy more often than not.  Sometimes I can't help but scratching them, especially the ones on the back of my neck because they feel like little zits.  And then I get little tiny pocky-marks like tweakers do when they are going through withdrawl.  Eww.  TMI.  Sorry.

The other day I had to get the bees out of the hive myself.  I had on a veil, long sleeved shirt, jeans, knee socks, and gloves, and I'll be damned if one didn't crawl up my pants leg and get me on the knee.  Five of the little bitches (they are all female, after all) clustered on my right hand glove and stung me AT ONCE on a 2 square inch area on the back of my hand.

I let them sting me because, hey--that's the goal, right?  But after a certain point I did re-lid the hive and run away.  They chased me around the yard and the porch for 10 damn minutes!  Oddly enough, when you're running to escape an angry mass of guard bees, bee stings don't hurt nearly as bad.  Go figure.

Back to The Dork Forest...I don't know what possessed me to do this, but after listening to the podcast, I looked up the website and sent her this email:

Hi Jackie, My friend sent me a link to your Dork Forest episode about beekeeping.  I have rheumatoid arthritis, and I use bees as medicine, which means that I sting myself with live bees.  I got 20 stings this morning.

I keep a blog about it if you are interested:  http://istingmyselfwithbees.blogspot.com

I'm also attending an apitherapy conference at the beginning of November to learn more about it.

I hope it isn't presumptuous of me to write to you--I thought it might make a good topic for your show. So if you think that you might be interested in doing an interview for your show, I think it would be TOTALLY COOL!!

And I got this reply shortly afterwards:

I am watching your short film!!  It's fascinating.

jackie

OMG.  What if I actually got to be on The Dork Forest?!?!? I feel like I need to do a magical dork dance while wearing a dwarf hat to make it happen.  Maybe this dwarf hat, which I am almost finished knitting:

P.S. If you want the pattern for this gnome, go here.

Stinging on the Spine

From books and apitherapists, I have been strongly advised to sting along my spine.  About a month ago,  when Samuel put all 16 on my spine, I felt good (see picture below).  Weirdly good.  And then I felt good for *days*.  I still feel pretty good in comparison to the past several months.

I haven't felt good all summer--in fact, I've had a pretty rough time, and my right hand is visibly and permanently disfigured--even more so than it was 3 months ago.  It's terrifying, but it's equally fascinating to observe.

I was at my cousin Geoff's recently and we were talking about what it would be like to be on a plane that is going down and what would/could you do.  He said "Witness it.  That's about all you could do--witness the hell out of it."  That's a little bit how I feel about the RA.  "Be here now,"like he says in the book.

Anyway.  I have been putting at least 8 stings on my spine per session ever since.  

There are 2 ways to do this, and I don't know if one is preferable to the another in terms of effectiveness.  The first way is to put the stings on each side of the spine, space about 2" apart.  The other is to sting directly on the spine.  This is something I want to ask about at the conference.

It hurts the worst at the bottom near my rear end.  I don't do it there too often as it is such a tender spot.  Stinging there usually involves some degree of hyperventilation before Samuel reminds me to breathe deeply.  But I do it quite often on my mid-and upper spine, and it isn't as painful there.  In fact, Christian did my stings for me the other day directly on the upper spine, and it was about as easy to take as getting 10 stings on your spine could possibly be.  I think the more you sting in an area, the less sensitive it becomes to the venom's fire.

I did 20 stings this morning.  Up until this point I've only done 16 at a time.  Afterwards I felt slightly headache-y and queasy, but not much and not for long.  That might actually be a good sign.

With rheumatoid arthritis, that's apparently what you want--a general systemic body reaction.  Enough stings will catalyze a flu-like reaction but won't kill you (usually/hopefully).  That seems to be like a switch on your immune system to shut off the RA.  We pushed it this morning with an intention to provoke that reaction. 

  

Okay, remember this photo?  Let me tell you something creepy.  Right after Samuel took this snapshot I texted it to some family members and friends.  Remember when I said "My kinky friend said "Please.  Send.  Me.  More."?  Remember that? 

 Boy, I sure do, because it turns out that phone number hasn't been my friends' number for several months...  Don't know who I was communicating with or what they think those welts on my back are...

Curse the Darkness

 In a recent post I expressed my frustration about the lack of activity on the apitherapy forum.  I only recently became a member, but I have more posts and responses than anyone else on the forum except for the administrator, and I have an equal number to her.   It feels weird and isolated.

During a past stinging at Samuel's, I started venting about it.   As I went on, I got louder and more animated, and I realized that I was outright angry about it. 

I teach online.  One of the things that we discuss in our training is how students can feel when they aren't getting the kind of responses that they expect*.  How people can feel left out, and the imaginary situations that they fabricate in an effort to put a reason behind why the doors seem closed.  Once I had a student contact my supervisor saying that she thought that I didn't like her.  I was very surprised when he told me about it, because this student was doing fine, and I had absolutely no feelings of animosity towards her.  However, I wasn't giving her the amount of feedback that I was giving to some of the other students, and in her mind, that translated to me having something against her. 

So while I admit that I did spend some time concocting possible scenarios about cliquishness and jumping to some other unfounded conspiratorial conclusions involving money scams,  I needed to figure out what I could do to get the results that I wanted, namely the answers to the questions that I posted on the forum.

There's a network list that only members of the AAS have access to.  I found the vice-president of the AAS board, who is also a doctor and an apitherapist, and I sent him an email.  It bounced back.  I thought that I might kill something.

But I took a deep breath, thought through what other options I had, and sent a private message to his wife, who is the administrator for the forum.  Because I sent a PM through the forum, I would have expected to get a PM back, but I got an email instead???  The administrator had received an email notification that she had a private message, but she didn't know how to check it.

EPIPHANY.

NOW I understand.   Old school.  These people are old school.  This is about a generation gap and computer skills, not money or exclusivity. 

So.

In addition to my questions for her husband, I responded with this:
 
"Do you have any idea when the forum will be back up?  I have some questions that I would like to post.  Also, if there is anything I could do to facilitate more activity on the forum, I would be more than happy to offer my assistance.  As an online teacher I have a fair bit of experience in managing online forums.  I would love to see more robust discussion there, a greater number of responses to people's posts, and more activity from more experienced members of the community.  I have plenty of energy to put towards that goal, and I'm excited about the possibilities, so please feel free to use me!" 

The result?

At present, the forum still isn't up, which is frustrating because I have a ton of questions that I want to ask and because it doesn't seem to be a priority for the AAS.   They recently had a revamp on the website, and the forum was never put back online. I think that they don't realize the potential of that tool. 

However, I got a very positive response from the administrator.  She seemed very interested in having me help out, and when we meet at the conference we're going to discuss the possibility of *me* being the forum admin!

I bought my conference ticket last week and my plane ticket this morning.  I've already arranged a substitute for my Friday class.  New Orleans, here I come!

*Which isn't to say that people's expectations often aren't out-of-whack, too high, etc.

Earl's Cafe is Open for Business

Because school is in session again and Sam had a busy week, we didn't do any stings for about five days. Usually we sting every other day or every third day at most.  I really need to work it into my routine, because I have been a lot worse since we stopped stinging every other day.

I  am considering using injectable bee venom, given the difficulty in finding the time to sting now that school is back in session.  It can be extracted without killing the bees (using mild electricity) and is more effective than live bees in the winter.

The American Apitherapy Society's Annual Apitherapy Conference is being held in New Orleans in November, and I bought my ticket!!  Maybe there I can get the answers I've been looking for.  It is in a swank hotel on Bourbon Street.  I've never been to New Orleans, so it should make for an adventure.

On Sunday we tried to make up for lost time by doing 16 stings, all on my spine. Check me out. I look like I just had my vestigial alien spines removed.  Looks intense I know, but it wasn't all that bad.  I texted the photo to a bunch of people before I wrote this entry.  My mom's response was "Looks bad.  Hope it's working."  Dad texted back "Must not feel too good.  Better smoke plenty weed," which is his answer to just about any problem.   And my kinky friend replied "Ple. Send. Me. More." 






I went home and groomed and then went over to Earl's honey house in Port Costa for the grand opening of his cafe!! Earl worked the Barista station while Sam, JJ, and I bottled and labeled the mid-summer crop of wildflower honey.






I look pretty deep in concentration for someone who's just screwing lids onto jars, do I not?

Earl also has Louisiana Muscadine grape jelly which he made on a trip back to his ancestral land, pear jelly, and local wild blackberry jam.












This is the flower patch that I made for Sam's pants.








The space looks amazing and I think that all 124 residents of Port Costa showed up :-)

a B Movie

Get it?  B Movie?  Seriously, I slay me.  Go gitcherself some popcorn.  This baby is premiering at Cannes.  Angelina, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, mama's takin' over.

Our technique has changed and been refined considerably since the time we filmed this (at least 2 months ago), and we also do between 12 to 16 stings per session now (in the video we only do 5).

I was recently alerted to the fact that there's already a movie with this title out there.  Of course, my bubble was burst (thanks Lloyd) after the name had come to me in a seizure of double entendre glory.  Maybe the producers or whoever will see it (highly unlikely, but I have illusions of grandeur so maybe) and tell me that I'm infringing on something.  I don't really know how that all works. But I have an "A" at the beginning, and I only use the letter "B" instead of spelling it out, which is minutely different...
 
What if Barry Gibbs sees it and decides that I deserve a 3 week tropical vacation at his expense and a million dollars cash for all the pain and suffering I have heretofore endured? 

Who knows what will happen.  But until it does, I do what I want. 

Reactionary

Recently I had the pleasure of speaking with an experienced apitherapist.   He lives in Maine, so we spoke on the phone.  From our conversation, I gathered that there is really no easy answer to the questions that I had posted on the apitherapy forum--namely how long is this going to take, and when can I expect to see the systemic results rather than just the local results? There simply aren't easy answers because it is different for everyone.

But he gave me some tools for gauging the effectiveness of the treatment starting with observing the reaction underneath the pain--things like temperature, redness, how far the venom extends along the lines of the nerves, etc.  In this way I can better gauge how it is affecting me and how well it's working.  He also told me that it is perfectly acceptable to chill the area to be stung, which will help mitigate the pain and allow me to better monitor the other manifestations of the sting.  

I liken it to eating hot peppers.  When you aren't used to them, it might simply feel like your mouth is on fire.  But once you start getting used to the capsaicin, the intensity of the burn subsides and you start being able to taste the flavor of the pepper and experience some enjoyment.

One thing I have noticed is that in general, the stings don't hurt as much, especially if I've already received a sting there.  But there's no hard and fast rule.  I was really sensitive to almost all of my stings on Wednesday, which has not often been the case as of late.

As you can see, I'm covered in scabs.  Sexy sexy scabs.  The two little things that look like boogers are the venom sacs of the stingers.  I think I also see some until now undiscovered grey hairs.

See how the redness extends straight up and down, but is fairly narrow across?  That's another sort of thing that I am trying to observe.  I could feel those stings all the way up the back of my head!  Also, when I received them, it felt like electricity going all the way through my arms and down into my fingertips. I had little finger spasms.

Here's after I got home.  The redness has died down a lot, but the right side is still a bit tender.  That's always interesting to me--when I sting symmetrically but one side of my body reacts with much more intensity than the other.  One of the other suggestions that the apitherapist had was to always apply stings on my spine.  I wasn't doing this before--I was doing spinal stings often, but not during each session. 

Ewww!!!  Closeup!!!!

Anybody notice the slightly creepy new addition following you down the left side of the page?    X's special touch :-)

Milestones

10 stings this morning.  I feel as though I've reached a goal.  Well, maybe not a goal--more of a milestone.  From what I've read on the apitherapy forum, most people start truly benefiting from the therapy when they are applying between 10-20 stings per session.  Sam and I pushed a little bit to get there.

While I was in the reactionary phase right at the beginning, I was only applying 1 sting every other day in order to get my body used to the venom.  Plus, I was swelling and itching like hell, so I could really only deal with one sting at a time until that part passed.  It took 13 stings until I stopped itching although I was still swelling some.  Then I pushed it up to 2, then 3.  The swelling became milder and milder until somewhere around 28-33 stings.  Now I swell very little--pretty much only within the first hours of receiving a sting. I did several sessions with only three stings--that was before this flare cycle began. 

Then a few sessions of 4 and 5.  We did one with 6.  Then we skipped 7 and went straight to 8--that was the session before last.  Today we skipped 9 and went to 10.  I have a couple of reasons for this.  Primarily (and obviously), I want to stop any further damage to my joints, and I am OVER being in pain.  Enrollment at school was low this summer, so I didn't have many hours, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I've been laid up with the arthritis about 2 or 3 days a week for the past month.  But when the fall semester starts, I will be working more hours, and I need to be able to do it.

Secondly, for whatever reason, I find it easier to do the stings in a symmetrical fashion.  Not because they're any easier to take; it's just that I only have to choose half as many sting locations.  It is a bit like picking your own switch.  Also, rheumatoid arthritis often follows some bilateral symmetry, so this seems like a logical response on my part.

Our first two stings today were on my feet.  Next came my ankles. While there's an appeal to just doing all the stings quickly, I find that it can be a bit much, depending on the location of the sting.  So now that we're doing higher numbers of stings, I decided that four at a time with a little break in between is preferable to all at once.

Here's Samuel doing my feet!  See how he's also holding onto my ankle?  He usually squeezes me somewhere while doing the sting.  It's very comforting and distracts a little from the lacerating sensation of the venom.

 

...getting a bee out of the jar...

We use the screw-on part of the lid as a little corral for the bees so that he can get a better grip with the tweezers. 

...Nuggets, the cat, sleeping in the window behind me...

Sometimes we have to chase the escabees! 

Get it?  Escabees?  Instead of escapees?  

Hahahaha, I slay me.

Sounds sort of like scabees too.

 

Here's me waiting for the stings in my knees to subside.  Good times.

At least the view is peaceful.  Those green jars are a watering system for the bees.  The big cotton cords wick water out of the jugs, and they are placed near the hives.  Earl stopped using them though because he said it was more just a death trap for the bees.

 

Okay, okay.  I know this isn't exactly a flattering photo of me.  I look a little...let's be frank, shall we?  I *look* like a constipated four-year-old.  But in reality I'm riding out two stings on my lower spine, right above my very tender bottom. Owwww!! With all these stings below the waist, I expect that I might have a hard time moving around by this evening--ankles and knees can be touchy.  But hey--it's a good excuse not to clean the house, right?

Progress

piAbout a month ago I had a short-lived flare-up in my shoulder.  It was the first I'd had in months--probably since our Salome's Suitcase fashion show at Shadowdance back in November.  It really freaked me out and made me question if I am doing the right thing or if I should get on the hardcore drugs.  I've realized that that little flare-up is part of a much bigger flare that I am currently going through.  In the past two weeks I have had excruciating flares in both hands, right hip, and left knee.  So it looks like I'm going through a flare cycle. 

A question I often get is "Does it work immediately?"  Yes.  The local effects are immediate--after stinging, especially during a flare, I am not pain free, but my movement is markedly looser.  Sam came over this morning and we bumped up the number of stings from 4 to 5.  If you ever want to see my progress, you can go to my sting log.  There's also a link on the right side of the blog near the top. 

Bee venom therapy also requires constant maintenance.  I sting myself every other day whether or not I have any arthritis pain so that I get the systemic benefits of the venom.  But what I have learned from my reading is that an end is in sight.  I will not have to do this for the rest of my life.  I don't know how many stings total I will have to do (although the number might reach somewhere around 600 and I'm at 74 right now).  After the course of treatment supposedly I will be "cured" although I will periodically have to go through mini courses afterwards to prevent the RA's return. 

People often ask me if I feel great now, like the bees and the new diet are some sort of miracle cure that's not only going to rid me of my degenerative condition, but give me super hippie powers as well.  If only.  I mean, I *do* feel great in a lot of ways.  However, I am trying to retard the progression of the disease--that's as good as it is going to get.   The bees are not a complete cure.  They may prevent further damage, but what's already done is done and cannot be reversed.

To be honest, I still don't really know what to expect.  I asked my apitherapist if it is normal to have flares while you are undergoing BVT, and she said that the goal is not to have ANY flares.  Fine by me!  But she also said that it is difficult to know exactly what to expect.  Some people take a long time to respond and some don't. 

The standard RA meds take at least a month or 2 to begin working, and in the meantime you simply have to deal with it.  I don't know if the bees are the same way.  You wouldn't believe how much conflicting information is out there.  Some people say 2-3 stings every 2 or 3 days.  Some people say 4-6 stings, and some say 10-20--OUCH!!  Some people say to sting directly on the inflamed joint, others say not to do so.  I just don't know--it's all a big experiment.

New Sting Routine

It has worked out this summer that Sam is home in the mornings as am I.  As such I've adjusted my stinging routine--Sam stings me instead of me having to do myself.  It's much easier  that way--the excellent company mitigates the dread. 

We did my feet for the first time yesterday.  I was waiting until I didn't have a strong local reaction to the stings to do my feet.  After all, I have to be able to do things like...walk.  It wasn't as painful on my feet as I was worried that it would be.  Except that after the first sting (on my left foot), the bee escaped from the tweezers and crawled between my big toe and the next one. I try to at the very least be stoic about getting the stings, not making a lot of noise and such, but I have to admit that I squealed "Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!!!!!!" and shook my foot around epileptically.

Please excuse my hairy hobbit feet. 

 

This is Sam and Earl's porch where the magic happens.  Right there on that bench.

Meet Samuel, who is having a bit of theater for the camera.

This is the hive in their yard where I get the bees for stinging.  I used to keep them in a jar for a week when I was doing the stinging myself.  But I don't really like confining them that way.  What's the point when the hive is so accessible?   Now I get a jar of bees when I need to get stung, Sam does the stinging, and I let the leftover bees out of the jar so that they can rejoin the hive.  

Check out Nuggets coming to see what I'm up to. 

Technique

I'm getting better at stinging myself.  Or rather, I'm getting better at getting the bees to sting me.  As scared as some people are about getting stung by a bee or a wasp, it can be kind of difficult to get them to sting you, even when you have then between a pair of tweezers or they are right up on your skin.   If they don't feel threatened, they aren't going to sting.

I get them in a pair of tweezers--you have to grasp them by the head or the middle (the thorax).  If you get them by the abdomen, their stinger can't engage.  It can be disconcerting--the unfortunate chosen bee is buzzing and vibrating which you can feel through the metal.

The bee tends to curl itself upwards in an attempt to sting the tweezers so you angle her in order to catch the stinger.

But sometimes she doesn't want to.  No matter how much you rub her soft little butt on your skin, it just doesn't happen.  You don't even see the stinger engage.  If you squeeze the tweezers a little bit it usually helps.  But sometimes that doesn't work either.  If a bee will not sting me no matter how much I try to make her, I let her go.  After all, she probably doesn't actually want to die whether she can think about it or not.  I can't say that I particularly enjoy squeezing their heads in the tweezers either.

Once the stinger catches, it remains in your skin and as you remove the bee it also pulls the venom sack out with it.  That's the gnarly slime ball that you see on the end in the photo.  You can get the stinger out immediately or let it stay until all the venom has been pumped into your body.  I usually let it sit for a few seconds and then remove the stinger although sometimes I leave the stinger in for a couple of minutes.

You have to crush the bee immediately afterward so that her death is at least quick not slow. 

I still don't know exactly how I'll react to the stings.  I have thankfully stopped swelling and itching for the most part, but the other day I gave myself a sting in each hand, and they puffed up *immediately*.  Which is strange because it usually takes several hours for the swelling to commence.  I've already heard the Stay-Puft marshmallow jokes, so you don't need to go there.

 

I've also been keeping a sting log, and I've put a link up on the right hand side of this blog if you're interested.  It's pretty dry stuff--just a spreadsheet for my reference, but you can have a look nonetheless.

Genesis Part 1

The very first time I attempted to sting myself, I tried using dead bees.  Neither Earl nor I knew anything about BVT (Bee Venom Therapy) except that such a thing existed, and that it had applications in treating rheumatoid arthritis.   I guess that was probably in November or December  before I'd bought any instructional books or found anything very helpful on the internet.  Earl said that one of his other friends would occasionally come over and collect the dead bees for medicinal purposes.


We gathered some dead bees into a glass jelly jar, and Earl showed me how to squeeze the abdomen to get the stinger to come out.  I couldn't really see it...I thought for a second that I could, but then I wasn't sure ...  But he assured me that the stinger is like a very very fine barbed hair, and if I put the bee's back end up to my skin and squeezed, that the stinger would hook me, and I'd be harpooned just like a great white whale.

So I brought my jar of dead bees home, and placed it on the kitchen table.  Where it sat unopened for several days.   I could feel my enthusiasm for BVT waning every time I sat down for breakfast.

But I finally summoned the strength of stomach to open the jar.  I scattered a few bees on the surface of the table (which is really a hospital gurney with a thick piece of glass laid on top).  I looked at them.  They, of course, did not look back at me.  They were also slightly dirty from being dead on the ground outside for who knows how long before I picked them up.   

I pushed one around a few inches with my index finger.  I held my breath and picked one up by the wings, trying to come into as little contact with the insect's body as possible, and then I put it back down.  "X!  I need you to come over here and sit next to me!"

X looked over my shoulder.  "That's disgusting.  What are you supposed to do with those again?"

"Squeeze their butts until the stinger comes out. "

X pulled out the chair next to me and sat down.  "I gotta see this."

I picked up another bee, this time by its body.  Gently, I squeezed the abdomen.  A miniscule drop of liquid appeared at the end of the bee's body.  I squeezed a little harder.  Some brown goo came out and dropped onto the table.  I dropped the bee which landed in the brown goo.  X and I both looked at each other and cringed simultaneously.

"I don't think that's what's supposed to happen," he said.

"You try it."

X picked up a non-mangled bee, and squeezed it's butt.  More brown goop came out.  Both of us shuddered, and X pretended to vomit on the table.

"I think Earl is going to have to do this," I said.

"I think you're supposed to use live bees."

"No you aren't.  Earl said that his friend comes up and collects the dead ones, and she uses them to sting herself."

I used a piece of paper to scrape the rest of the bees back into the jar,  wiped up the mess with a paper towel, and put the jar on the back porch where I wouldn't have to look at it at the same time that I was looking at raisins in my oatmeal.

 photo credit: http://bean-sprouts.blogspot.com/

How the Venom Travels

My first sting was on the palm side of my right base thumb joint.  It moved down into the pam of my thumb and a little into the palm just below my middle and ring fingers.  I had some stiffness, and good god the itching, but it didn't seem like the venom traveled too far.

The second sting was on my left wrist on the pinky side.  It spread downward a few inches, and not up at all.

The third sting was on the side of my thumb joint on the top of my hand close to the webbing.  It spread up into my thumb first and then down and into my wrist a little.

None of those were too bad.  There was some swelling, and there was some itching--it took a few days to simmer down.

But the fourth sting, which I applied to my right wrist below the thumb, seems a little more vengeful than the others.  My whole wrist and almost the entire underneath side of my forearm are swollen.  The redness has died down, but the swelling has spread almost to my elbow.  I'm thinking that it will be reduced by tomorrow, but I sure am ready for my body to start processing this venom.   It's squeezing the circulation a bit too--the knuckles in my thumb, first, and middle fingers have been slightly blue all day.

I wonder if you swell outside the area that the venom comes into contact with?


Mind you, I did not do all of these at once--the first sting was about 6 days ago,  the second and third sting I did together, and those were 4 days ago, and the fourth sting was yesterday.  But I am wondering how many more stings it will take for my body to start recognizing the venom and processing it without swelling.  I have been assured that this will happen, but when I don't know.

Yes, I really do sting myself with bees.  Yes, it really hurts.    So far I've only done it four times (well, 5 technically, but I don't think the first one counts since the technique was something of a fluke, and I couldn't get it to work when I tried to repeat it).  Which means that I still swell and itch each time.   According to my beekeeper friend, that goes away after you get stung several times.  It will still burn during the actual sting, but you don't swell up over the next couple of days.


The first time, we took one of those tubes that hold water at the bottom of a flower--like long stem roses or orchids.  We got a bee into it, and I turned it upside down on my wrist where I wanted to bee stung.  Get it?  Bee stung?  I slay me with that one every time.