Ben got stung. He got stung bad.
I would be liar if I said this wasn't both a low point, and highlight, of the trip. Getting stung by a jellyfish is kind of like someone falling... you are really worried about the person who got hurt, but as soon as you realize they are going to be okay you can't help but laugh... a lot. The circumstances surrounding the sting didn't help, and Ben's misfortune became the running joke of the trip (he was a good sport).
Ben, Tim, and Ash were messing around on the beach when all of a sudden Ben came hobbling up to where Steph and I were camped with the babies. His face was all contorted in pain and he was frantically swatting at the back of his knee. Tim trotted up behind him and informed us that Ben had been stung, and that he had immediately asked Tim to grab the jellyfish off of him, which Tim had declined (smart, sounds like a really good way to also get stung). After panting heavily and trying to tough it out, Ben ended up opting to return to our condo to rinse the sting and make a baking powder paste. I sent Asher with him as his nurse (shows you how worried I was in the immediate aftermath of the sea tragedy). Five minutes later I got a call from Ben that adult assistance was needed.
I returned to the condo to find him laying in the bath tub, hot shower beating down on him, literally unable to talk the pain was so bad. Asher was gleefully running amok, unsupervised, screaming "Daddy got owie from jellyfish!". I sat down at the kitchen table and starting eating fresh mango before remembering I was the adult assistance that was needed (Ben was not happy with me about this). I called a local doctor and asked what we should do, and he told us to go to a dive shop. So I packed up the kids and went to the Abyss Dive Shop, where a dive master told me to go to Walgreens and get spray Benadryl and then load Ben up with benadryl pills and motrin. Ash ran around the dive shop and drug store telling anyone who would listen "Daddy got owie from jellyfish, he's in the bath tub, we are going to make him feel better". We returned home with our first aid and "saved daddy" (per Asher).
When we got home and Ben started feeling better, we wandered back to the beach where Tim and Steph could not wait to tell us that just minutes after we had left to attend to Ben, an 8-year old boy had gotten stung and when his mom asked if it hurt, he had replied, nonchalantly, "A little I guess". And THAT was how a weeks worth of making fun of Ben's pain tolerance began.
Ben's immediate response to his near death experience was that he really wished one of us had gotten stung too so that we understood how bad it hurt. No one offered to intentionally get stung so that we could commiserate.
Such a pretty little ocean ninja.
I believe Tim was explaining the sting here. Ben was trying not to puke from pain.
The next day Asher ran up and down the beach pointing out the jellyfish to Ben and telling him to watch out. See! Adult assistance!
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