Humorous Ant Sting Experience

I leaned forward and presented my hands.

Oh, God.

Could I put these gloves on and keep my cool in front of the tribe?

Have mercy.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

Obviously not.

Oh!

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Geez, with a couple of deep breaths, though,

I felt like I'd be back to normal in

no time. Should I get you a Panadol?

Oh! Oh!

Oh!

A Nurofen Plus?

What do I do? What do I do?

You have to dance to release the pain, Hamish.

Okay. Can we dance then?

Geez, I was gonna be surprised if this helped.

Seems like a, a very strange directive from the doctor,

isn't it?

Just dance.

Oh!

And evidently it didn't. Hang in there, buddy. Hang in there.

'Cause Hame soon commenced what we now know as the six stages of sting pain.

Shrieking.

Ee! Ee! Ee!

Refusal to dance.

You have to dance.

I don't wanna dance. I want ... This is the last time I'm ever gonna feel like

dancing.

Screaming/and or swearing.

Argh! Argh!

Sweating.

Argh. Argh.

Some shaking.

Argh! Uh!

Fighting stick requests.

Argh! Argh.

Argh.

Problem was, this went on for an hour-

Argh

... relentlessly. Cold water?

Yeah.

How's that?

I need ice.

Yeah, I'll get you ice. I'll get you ice.

Toxin from the ants generates the worst pain a human is capable of

experiencing.

Argh!

There was nothing I could do to help him, so I essentially stood by in shock at the

reaction.

It's just not stopping.

We later found out that not only do these ants sting multiple

times a second, but

they release a pheromone telling any nearby ants to also sting.

Argh.

Oh, dear. Hame had been stung 100 times over.

You wanna lie down? By the two-hour mark-

Yeah

... Hamish had collapsed with exhaustion, but it was clear the pain hadn't receded

at all,

and the doctor offered up a suggestion.

Let's go to hospital.

Oh, a bit of a worry wart there, doc, if you ask me.

Obrigado.

No, seriously, thank you, though.

We made the hour-long trip back to the closest hospital, where luckily the

emergency doctors were able to treat Hame, and I was able to find a seat.

Voila.

Hmm, good one not to get. Thank you, chief.

Eight hours after the stinging, I was finally able to talk to my friend

again.

How are you feeling?

I think I prefer being stung by this big white wasp.

Morphine?

Yeah, he's a good wasp.

That was

unbelievable.

You look a lot like a man now, though, just so you know.

I grew an extra testicle.

The good news is, even though they felt like they'd been

busted up by hammers, at

midnight I was able to get out of hospital and take my hands to

Maccas.