These stories are in no particular order, other than what stands prominent in my mind whenever I log on. Tonight, it's about allergies.
Remember when I blogged about how the Disabilities Center refused to let me bring my epi-pen into the testing room? I now have a story for them (and my doctor, which will get me a note of consent to bring my epi-pens in).
One morning, we shadowed in pediatric hematology/oncology. There was a room in the back of the clinic for the doctors and residents to log information into the computers, consult with each other, and just rest between patients.
My partner (whom we will call A from now on) and I were sitting at one of the desks together, whispering just to have something to do before we started seeing patients.
I heard the word "walnuts". My head whipped around so fast that I swear I could've gotten whiplash. One of the doctors was telling another doctor about the topping for her yogurt. I turned to my partner and whispered that I'd go wait in the hallway, and that she could come if she wanted but she didn't have to. I told the doctor we were shadowing where I was going and I left.
My partner came about five minutes later. I was grateful that she'd come, and that she didn't make fun of me. (She did say something about how hypersensitive to my surroundings I am, but considering my history of severe reactions from airborne allergens, I don't feel weird about it at all.)
After about twenty minutes of standing outside and leaning against the hallway walls, we decided it was safe for me to go back in. I sat across the room from the garbage can and from where she'd been sitting. I didn't feel safe, but I didn't feel threatened, either.
We saw a few patients, then we came back. We sat for another hour or so with a resident, who was explaining to us and a med student how to read a chest X-ray. We were then given permission to leave early, so we did.
Around the time we left, my palm felt very, very itchy. I figured that it was nothing, given the fact that, well, skin itches sometimes. But it refused to go away.
We walked all the way back to the office before I noticed that my right palm was bright, bright red. The redness from an allergy is so red that it almost glows, and it's immediately recognizable to people who know what they're looking for. If you've ever seen a skin infection, it looks something like that.
I knew I should take a Benadryl, because that's the first step I take for ANY allergic reaction unless I can't breathe or can't swallow. However, since I wasn't 1000% sure that it was, in fact, a reaction, I was hesitant to take something that would make me sleep. And I couldn't take Zyrtec because I'd been taking it every, single day for months. (If it isn't a bad or rapidly progressing reaction, I'll take Zyrtec sometimes because Benadryl can have weird side effects for me. But I also take it for seasonal allergies.)
I went to the bathroom to wash my hands before lunch while I decided. And about a minute after I'd washed my hands, the itching completely stopped. The redness took about an hour to subside.
My theory is that this doctor had touched the yogurt or the topping (it happens) and touched the desk afterwards. HOURS later, I must've put my hand down in the same spot, which caused the reaction.
Honestly, I'm lucky. I've had one very severe reaction from airborne walnuts and several smaller ones from airborne tree nuts or peanuts. I'd imagine that touch reactions should be worse, but I think that the nightly Zyrtec was what saved me.
This has never happened to me before, and it had me a bit spooked for a few days. Life goes on, but the memory of what could happen remains. When I see my doctor next (he's a neighbor--I can just ask the next time I'm at his house), I'll tell him that I need a note permitting me to bring my epi-pens into the testing room. The risk of someone else eating a peanut butter sandwich and using the keyboard before I do is too great--and if I'm not taking Zyrtec at that point...I don't want to think about it.
The funny thing is that my FA is rarely on my mind. Oh, it's there subconsciously--I always, always check food labels before I eat, I always, always ask what's in the food, but I don't think about it all the time. My epi-pen is just there, like my wallet it--loaded into my bag with no thoughts. It makes me feel safe, but that isn't a conscious thought, either. It's more like the song stuck in your head for days--you find yourself mindlessly humming it, but you don't bring it up in a thoughtful kind of way. It's the first thing my mind jumps to if I'm itchy, or if I can't breathe. It's the first thing on my mind if I feel dizzy or my heart rate is fast. But it's not a constant presence.
In fact, I'm happy this happened--now I have proof that this CAN and DOES happen. The Disabilities Center won't know what hit them.
"They've had eons more time than we/ Is it possible could it be/ Am I watching you watching me?" ~The Chromatics (Astrocapella)
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