Thursday 19th July 1990   Morning surgery 08.57

Oh my God! I knew it had to happen in the end. Dr Lewis wants me to see a patient on my own. It’s a lady with a bee sting of all things. What if she has anaphylaxis? By the time I have looked up the symptoms, it could be too late.
I am dreading seeing her. I feel sick and dizzy. My heart is pounding and my chest is tight. My face is coming out in hot, red blotches as I walk to the waiting room to call her in. My lips and my fingertips are tingling.
She doesn’t look too bad after all. She manages to walk down the corridor to my room. I help her to the chair. She holds up her hand. There is a tiny red dot where the bee has stung her. She asks if the sting is still there.
I take a closer look and shake my head.
“No, it is hard to see anything.” I reassure her. “It must have been a very small bee.”
We both sigh with relief.

A very small bee.