Allergies suck (ramblings)

Allergies suck. 

To preface I am writing this while acknowledging that many people have worse allergies than me and other conditions that make their lives so much harder than mine. I also hate elaborating about my allergies because I feel so stupid and pitiful because they’re allergies, not the end of the fucking world. But holy fuck sometimes it feels like it is.

The first interaction I had with an allergen is something I can only assume. Maybe in the latex covered hands of the doctor that helped deliver me, or maybe the material of their gown. But I know for certain that I was fed formula and internally imploded as a result. So, it was breast milk from that day onwards. 

My oldest brother and one of my older sisters have bad peanut allergies, but that’s a typical allergy to have, nothing special (not to diminish their allergies, they have also had bad interactions with peanuts). However being the fourth child with a fuck ton more allergies thew my parents into the deepest depths in the enormous ocean of cluelessness. They slowly started to understand my severe allergies from ages 1-3 with the help of some blood testing, but it’s hard to really understand the scope of something until you have to deal with it firsthand. 

We’d often go to chick-fil-a and I’d get small fries that were fried in some mystery oil, and everything was fine! Except for the extremely painful and tiring struggle with full-body eczema and sleepless nights with hives and asthma that was only amplified by the amount of crap I was eating. But my parents didn’t know and I don’t hold any of it against them. 

The first run-in with death was from a fry, from chick-fil-a, fried in peanut oil. I was 3 and went into anaphylactic shock and received two epi-pens in the emergency room. It happened again a year or two later with some cheese covered thing, I forget what exactly but it had a similar outcome.

Overall, until I was 6, I was a frequent patients at numerous hospitals and specialist clinics, either getting treatment for an allergic reaction, healing mysterious rashes, getting hundreds of prescription medication and lotion and soap, and trying to cure my allergies. Oh right, I can’t even use normal fucking soap. I’ve tried exposure therapy to allergens, being fed crackers. That sucked, horrible allergic reactions, wouldn’t recommend. We still hadn’t figured out what I could/couldn’t eat, plus my sister would throw cheerios on the ground for me to nibble so I would be in constant agony and frequently got rushed into the er for asthma attacks. I admit that I felt a great sense of power when being wheeled around the hospital in the comfy beds. But the dinosaur nebulizer mask over my face probably didn’t exude the power I felt:(

The most annoying part of my allergies is the exclusion from other people. Being the 5th person in my family (my brother lived somewhere else) meant that there was always a chair that had to be pulled up, and my sisters, a year apart, would exclude me from anything fun. Those factors plus the humiliating requirement to accommodate my allergies, made every public outing miserable. I’ve always hated restaurants. I feel an instinctual urge to cry but I’ve gotten over myself a lot more recently. It’s way more humiliating when my mom asks the extremely confused waiter for a side of plain green beans next to my plainly seasoned single fillet of fish on an enormous plate. Even worse when she asks if they have apple juice, I feel like a fucking child who can’t even help themselves to looking at the menu. 

In school, I’d always have my medication with me, and the teacher would loudly announce my allergies to the whole class, urging them to stay away if they had food I was allergic to!! *literally everything* I would also always need to use my inhaler with the obnoxious spacer before leaving the classroom while every other student stared at me while they impatiently stood in a single-file line at the classroom door. I would also need to interrupt the teacher and ask for my huge prescription bottle of soap every time I went to the bathroom. The best part of it all was the peanut free lunch table, fit for maybe 30 students, which had 1 (me), whilst surrounded by the entire elementary and middle school on their crowded lunch tables. I would often start to cry and eat in the bathroom to avoid the embarrassing questions I would get about my packed lunch, or just the embarrassment of being there at all. My parents did eventually force the school to let me sit with other kids.

It’s just so tiring. I try to food just to react badly. I eat the same food I have for years and then I develop an allergic reaction one day. My safe foods are no longer safe, and I’ve run out of things to try. There are alternatives and I’m so grateful for my mom because she always tries to cook for me and I’ve learned so much from her, but I hate that feeling. It’s hard not to feel like an error, just a messed up kid. I still have a vivid memory of me seated alone in the very back of our old mini-van when I was 6 telling my family “I shouldn’t have been born at all, it would’ve all been so much easier.”. Of course they disagreed with that but it’s so hard to deny something you’ve truly believed for so long. 

Recently I tried immunotherapy which did jack shit. It hurts being told that your allergies will never improve, especially after getting hundreds of shots. 4 shots a day, 12 shots a week, ~4.3 weeks a month, had the treatment for 8 months. Roughly 412 shots, give or take a couple. It did absolutely nothing. There is some hope to develop better immunity to some of my smaller allergies, but a lot of that is also just a dumb solution of: deal with it. Also the nausea that comes with those shots was horrible in addition to the hockey puck shaped disks at the injection sites which is absolutely ugly and humiliating. I guess I’m glad I did it, I definitely got over any hatred towards shots. By the 20th you don’t even care anymore.

I have so many more stories and things I can pity myself for but I do really appreciate all everyone does to help me. I know that so many people care and I do enjoy telling people about my allergies because it’s their first time hearing about them. Even if my voice cracks awkwardly as I push out hard truths that I still struggle with, I understand the curiosity and importance of me sharing. I also genuinely like to joke around about my allergies, it makes it so much easier to deal with.

I’ve literally only written this because I’m still swollen and itchy and nauseous from an allergic reaction I had exactly 3 hours ago. Picture day. I needed to borrow makeup so I did, and I was perfectly fine, not a single sign of any reaction, just like I expected. When I got home I ate a snack and took my makeup off and then the most sharp itch began in my eyes. I scrubbed hard to remove any traces of makeup and when I looked up my whole face was covered in hives, my eyes swollen and shutting, face red and bloating, and my lips aching as they swelled close, protruding from my face with hot blisters. It’s such a dreadful and disgusting feeling when you see yourself grow worse within seconds. I just stood in the mirror and cried. It’s a deafening reality check each time this happens and all I can think of is my younger self alone at that lunch table. So I just stood there, feeling my tongue swell and my arms begin to itch. It was then that I knew it was also food, my inner elbow is always an indication of food reactions. I then had to knock on my parents bedroom door where they were already sleeping, a mortifying experience on its own, begging through a muffled voice for my allergy medicine. We had zero, nothing to help me. It actually sucks feeling so helpless and scared and stupid. They spent 30 minutes looking for medicine while I ripped apart my bag and bathroom cabinet for anything. It’s so humbling. The only solution was the Epi-pen which I thought I would need which is a bit terrifying in itself. Panic. Losing my breath to a fast heart rate and my tongue making it extremely hard to even open my mouth wide enough to let any air in. Nausea took over and I knew these were the first signs of anaphylactic shock. Crouched on my bathroom floor I waited, with my dad looming over me with the Epi-pen in his hand. Finally my mom found a prescribed steroid pill for her chronic cough (which I shouldn’t even take). It’s such a strange feeling when your tongue shrinks in size. But it’s a small drawback for being able to breath again.

I’m now still swollen and nauseous and I can't even see properly but I’m still somewhat scared that if I fall asleep too soon, I might wake up without enough air, it’s happened many times before. Inhaleron standby though!

Fuck my stupid Chungus life or wtv :p