I Hate Jellyfish

I'm on vacay right now in Hilton Head. It's been a great trip...until I got stung.

So there I was, happily jumping waves with my baby in my arms. She was squealing with delight and we were having a great time. All of a sudden there was a sharp searing pain first in my left leg, then a few seconds later it spread to my right leg. It felt like someone was stabbing knives into both of my legs...or perhaps a shark had dug his teeth in and was gnawing away.

Needless to say, I started screaming my head off. I wasn't scared so much for myself (OK, yes I was), but more for my baby. See, I was convinced I was going to drop her into the ocean at this point.

It probably just took a few seconds before my husband got to me and took her away from me, but in those seconds, I was convinced we were both going to be dragged away my sharks. It was probably the scariest experience of my life.

The whole time, my dad was trying to tell me I'd just stepped on a shell and was fine. Well, he was right that there were no sharks, but it was considerably worse than simply stepping on a shell.

I limped out of the water, because my this point, both my legs had started to swell up. It was low tide, so I had a very far way to go to get to the lifeguard station, and I couldn't straighten either leg, so I was limping with both legs bent, tears streaming down my face.

The lifeguards sprayed my legs down with vinegar and told me to pack it with wet sand. Then a gentleman offered me some shaving cream, which really did the trick.

By the time we got back to the beach house, the welts were still there, but maybe a tenth of what they had been. It no longer felt like a shark was ripping my leg apart, but it still stung badly.

It's been almost 24 hours and now I just have a low-grade stinging sensation left, but it's still there. And the welts are still there.

I think I'll pass on the beach today.