Monday, January 9, 2012

OVERACHIEVER IS A FOUR LETTER WORD

Allergist Shot Lady to Mags:  "OK, make sure your Mommy doesn't scratch her arms. You are in charge."


Mags to me: "You heard her, Mama. I'm in charge."

Oh man! Thanks, Allergist Shot Lady (ASL)! I'm not sure you know what you've done. I'll go with your choice of who is in charge, but I'm not 100% behind you. Heck, I'm not even 50% behind you. You see, putting Mags in charge can go either way. She either takes the job seriously and does it well or she takes the job WAY too seriously and people get scared. 


Turns out, it was a good thing. If you've ever had allergy testing, the initial "scratching" is not that bad. They take something that looks similar to a hair brush and push the bristle looking end into your skin. Kind of like this, but without the tasty treats on the end:




There were 24 scratch "bristles" that were pushed into my upper left arm and 24 into my upper right arm. "No sweat", I thought, "I can deal with a little itchiness." Except if you are extremely allergic to everything they push into your skin. Then it becomes 15 minutes of sitting in a room with a 3 year old wanting to rip your arms off.


Luckily, Mags took pity on me. She kept me from scratching and up to date on how many "bubbles" were rapidly forming on each of my arms. We had an impromptu counting lesson that kept me mostly distracted from the unbearable itching and burning. If I even went to scratch my nose, Mags would say, "Uh uh uh! You 'renembah' what the lady said. Hands to self, Mama. Hands.to.self."  (I love when she shoots my "Momisms" back at me in her little Minnie Mouse voice.)


Besides counting, oohing and ahhing at the "bubbles", and reminding me she was in charge, Mags also took some pictures with my phone. She wanted to text Daddy the freak show forming on my skin. "He's gonna love the bubbles, Mama!". Oh, definitely. I could just see my poor husband at work receiving texts containing pictures of my blistered up arms. How romantic. Then I heard the door open. 


Finally! ASL walked into the room and said, "Let's take a quick peek". I have to say her response to what she saw was a bit unsettling. I heard her say, "Oh! Oh my! Give me one second". She rushed out of the room and returned with an epi pen, the doctor, and a camera. She told me to hold the epi pen "just in case". OH! FOR THE LOVE OF JELLYBEANS! Seriously? I'm a teacher. I know about epi pens. I've had the training. Needle in the thigh, no sweat. Right?


I'm not going to lie, my stomach flipped a little. I smiled at Mags who told me the epi pen was pretty and asked if she could hold it for me. She's so helpful. It was then that I realized I must have looked panicked. I promptly changed my tune so I wouldn't freak Mags out. 


I learned quickly that the words "overachiever", "impressive", and "off the charts" are terms you DO NOT want to hear from ASL. I was allergic to 46 of the 48 allergens scratched on my arm. Off the charts allergic. Oh, but the good news was that I wasn't allergic to Bermuda Grass. I could run through fields of it and be perfectly fine. Too bad Bermuda grass is found in the lower southern portion of the country. Just out of reach for frolicking in.


However, I was excited that I finally had 46 reasons for the non-stop sinus and ear infections I'd been experiencing for several months. I felt like this was a successful doctor's visit (for once). I left there with answers, two very sore arms, a  prescription for my very own epi pen, and a plan for six shots a week. SIX.A.WEEK. What did Mags leave with?





The entire basket of toys they had at the front desk, of course! 
  (Oh, and you're off the hook, ASL. I was wrong. You chose....wisely.)

1 comment:

  1. Holy crap. And I thought I was bad with my 27 out of 32. Just be glad they didn't do the tests on your back. :P

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