Allergy Testing for Dummies

I could have named it, One Out of Three Ain’t Bad. Or, more to the point, how To Survive Allergy Testing with a 4 Year Old.  In the interest of helping others, I shall share.  You’re welcome, in advance.

 

We recently went in for our yearly allergy testing appointment.  This wasn’t Sweetboy’s first rodeo.  He knew the drill.  Sweetgirl, however, did not.  Oh, no, she most certainly did not! And when she got a load of how it was going to go down, I learned quickly that there were only 3 things that helped me survive those moments between arrival and departure.  And for the record?  I only brought one of them with me.

 

First, though, for those of you who don’t have to deal with allergies, here is a quick and painless tutorial on why we even do allergy testing.

  • You discover that your child has broken out in hives, a part of their face is swelling, or they are itching the ever-lovin’-tar out of a part of their body right after eating/touching some unknown thing.
  • You’ve heard that Benadryl is a miracle drug for allergies, so you give it.  It helps.  This makes you curious.
  • To your dismay, you discover that your child has this reaction every. Single. Time. he or she eats this thing or comes into contact with it.
  • You call friends who have had experience with allergies and ask, “What in the tarnation do I do now?”.  They tell you to call a Pediatric Allergist, post-haste (quicker than spit).
  • You do.

Let’s proceed to the actual allergy testing appointment, shall we?

 

After enduring high-pitched screams that very likely rival a dying pig’s final moments (not that I’ve ever heard them, but I can imagine), you begin to see this on the back of your sweet child.  The 8 spots on the right side of her back represent 8 foods (peanuts, soy, milk, wheat, etc.).  The 8 spots on the left represent environmental things (cats, dogs, dust, mold, etc.).

 

 

We now know that we are within our legal rights to declare cats as “dead to us”.  (That never stopped us before this, though.  And for some reason, cats love me.  I mean, they love me!  They find me and insist on rubbing up against me as my eyes become runny, bloodshot, orbs the size of golf balls.)

 

And so, we now arrive at the 3 Things That Saved My Keester:

1)  Dum Dums (Thankfully, I brought 3! All were consumed.  Dentist be darned.)

2) A Hershey Kiss  (I don’t even want to know how that tasted after 3 dum dums.)

3) A very outdated VHS copy of “Fraggle Rock”, courtesy of Allergist’s office staff (People, really?  How in the love of all that’s fit for viewing would I have guessed that THAT is what Sweetgirl would be interested in watching? How, I ask you?!?!)

 

And there you have it. Not exactly rocket science.  Mostly sheer luck.  Yep, that’s how we roll around here.  That, and a LOT of prayer. Yes indeedy!

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The Fuzzers Are Gone

Taraxacum

Dandelions are a fearsome thing in this household. “Let No Nose Be Left Behind”, surely must have been the operating theory when allergies were handed out in this family.  You might think it’s a bit late in the season for dandelions to still be sprouting up.  You would be wrong.  Dead wrong.  Just ask my nose. And my eyes. My eyes are crying; and they’re not even sad.

 

We took an evening stroll recently. The goal, unbeknownst to us at the start, was to find and blow as many dandelions as possible.  Each blow was precipitated by “Look Daddy! Look Mama!  Anudder dandelion!”, followed by much huffing and puffing.  All of this huffing and puffing led to many a dandelion spore floating dangerously close to our eyes, faces, and nose spaces. I turned to Sweetman to report that taking my allergy medicine today was a lesson in futility. He agreed wholeheartedly as his own eyes began to swell.

 

When I got to the point that I thought I would rather scrape my face on the pavement than endure one more WEED being blown within a 2 mile radius of my person, all blowing ceased. Glory! I think I actually saw Sweetman do a Happy Dance.

 

Sweetgirl, however, launched into near hysterics and announced loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, “Oh NOOOO!  The fuzzers are all gone!”.

 

And they were.

 

And I said,”Amen!”  Oh, yes indeedy.