We had a scary incident at work back in August when our outdoor maintenance man was stung by a few bees while at our store. I'd never seen him at my previous location because we were located inside a gas station and they took care of the building's exterior, but he stops in at this store about once a month washing windows, pulling weeds, and sometimes washing a floor. (He's absolutely amazing with a string mops! Ha ha!)
Anyway, I saw him come in and next thing I know he is sitting on a chair in the back of the store while my former district manager, who was at our store for I don't know what, was helping him hold ice packs on his bee stings. He seemed overly affected for a 40 something year old guy, a strained look on his face as she helped tend to the stings. Something about it left me feeling unsettled and my attention remained partially in the back room. I had a bottle of Benadryl in my car and asked if they wanted some, ran out to get it and handed the bottle to Julie who read the side and gave him 2 pills.
His wincing, groaning and general discomfort continued to bring me concern. At one point he dumped and entire pitcher of ice water over his own head, soaking his shirt. He had Julie find him another and once he was dry made himself an iced coffee and headed out the front door. I worried about him driving and feeling sleepy due to the antihistamine, but soon noticed him standing against the three compartment sink in the back room. Still concerned, I left the floor and approached him. "Are you okay?" I asked.
"No," he replied and held out his arms. There were hives covering the insides of both his arms.
"Do you need a doctor?" I asked.
"Yes." he said.
Our manager was off for the day and Julie, the district manager of my previous store, had left. Our assistant manager was passing through. I looked at him and said, "He's not okay. He needs a doctor."
Ben looked at me and said, rather matter-of-factly, "There's an Urgent Care across the street if you want to take him."
I questioned whether Ben should take him, but quickly decided it was up to me, so I took this man by the arm, almost like he was a child, and led him to my car, put him into the front seat, and headed to the Urgent Care directly across the street. He moaned and closed his eyes, and I prayed he would still be able to walk when we got there. I parked as close to the door as possible in a handicapped parking spot not caring if I got a ticket, went around to the passenger side and led him into the building.
As he was not doing well at all, I was relieved to see three chairs sitting directly in front of each reception window. I seated him in one and addressed the man behind the desk who asked why we were there. "He got stung by some bees," I said.
"I need to hear from him," the man replied.
I looked at my friend who was seated in the chair. His face was red and I began to wonder if he was breathing. "He is not okay!" I said. A nurse immediately appeared through the reception area door and put her hand on his shoulder. She shook him a little, asked if he could hear her, if he was having any trouble breathing, and if he could walk. He opened his eyes and I breathed a sigh of relief. She and another man led us into the nearest exam room and seated him in a chair. He was all but a stranger to me but I stood there with my hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him, provide a little comfort and support, and answer any questions he might not have the strength at that moment to answer. I didn't even know his name.
The first thing they did was give him a shot of epinephrine. They never even asked his name. In time he would need to vomit and they would give him an injection of something in his arm, maybe to settle his stomach, I'm not sure now. The ambulance was called, and two phone calls were made to his supervisor/friend as well and he would later meet him at the hospital. I texted my assistant manager across the street to keep him informed and suggested maybe letting Julie know what was happening.
The EMT's arrived, helped him onto the gurney, gave him a second epi shot, and hooked him up to an IV. Once they had his information recorded and made a copy of his driver's license, they wheeled him out of the room and loaded him into the ambulance. The nurse looked at me. "Are you okay?" she asked. I wrapped my arms around her neck.
"I think I'm going to cry," I said.
She looked me in the eye. "You saved his life bringing him here," she said. She offered me a chance to sit down and brought me something to drink. My head was spinning... I eventually made my way back across the street where the assistant manager said I could go home if I wanted to. It was 1:12pm. I decided to take him up on the offer as I didn't think going back on the floor was a wise plan in the moment.
I had to message Julie to ask how he was and her answer was as if I hadn't been there at all and she had taken care of everything. I told her I had taken him in and stayed until the ambulance came. No one, upon my return to work that week, offered any thanks or update unless asked. When the owner came in days later I specifically asked about him. She told me they had kept him until 8pm that evening but that he was doing good. She offered a blanket thank you.
It's been four weeks now. On Wednesday I finally saw him. He came in while I was tending a customer. Our eyes met and then he was back out the front door to pull weeds. The woman owner, our district manager and the new store manager were having a meeting in the lobby. In a quiet moment I went outside to find him. "I'm so glad to see you," I said. He smiled and offered his hand. I gave him a hug instead and he offered his thanks. That was all I wanted, to know he is okay. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
There are still bees outside and he doesn't have an epi pen. I'm still concerned but we are all a little wiser and better informed.
PS. Always know where the closest Urgent Care is located.
