Saturday, January 31, 2009

Seven Benedryl in Two Hours and Still Standing

Argh. I have a stupid nut allergy. Not that it's all bad, but sometimes you really have to wonder why God made you with a built-in self-destruct button. Most of the time it's easily manageable, but every now and then, something slips through the guard, and I end up downing Benedryl at the counter of a CVS.

Today, it was pine nuts, and they were in my meatballs. And yeah, yeah, I need to keep my medicine on me at all times, yes, yes, I know. But why on earth would I have thought, "Meatballs? Do they have NUTS in them?" Well apparently, if I lived in Italy, I would know better.

The owner/chef/waiter was like, "WHY DIDN'T YOU-A TELLA ME THIS?? Of COURSE there are pine-a nuts in da meatballs! Dat's the Italian way o' makin' da meatballs! I coulda have told you!" I felt like a fourteen-year-old being dressed down by an uncle about my eating habits. However he scolded me, though, he was really nice about it, and made me a to-go box of spaghetti with meat sauce. "No nuts in da meat-a sauce," he said. And the brushetta was AMAZING. (Obviously no nuts there.)

So the hubby packs me into the car and we went racing off to Target, where I downed two Benedryl right there in the juice isle, after I had ripped open the box while jogging my way over from the pharmacy to find something to drink with the Benedryl. After that, I popped open an apple juice, crushed open two more capsules, and poured those both into my remaining apple juice -- all this while standing in the middle of one of the main through-isles at Target. I drained the rest of that bottle, while all the other customer stared at me, cracking open unpaid-for medications and juice bottles. (I open them and add them to liquids to get into my system faster.)

Once I had the starter medications in me, we headed over to the movie theater, because: 1) we had a babysitter and I wasn't about to waste it and 2) better to get my mind of what was going on rather than stressing out over how awful I felt. When we got to the theater, I cracked two more capsules and added them again to another apple juice, sipping it through the movie.

By the time we got home, I was still itchy and breaking out into hives, so I dosed myself with some steroids and one more Benedryl. So right now, my legs and butt look like a hormonal high-school freshman's face. (Before Proactive.) My face is blood red for some odd reason, and my belly, neck, head, arms, legs and butt all itch like CRAZY.

It's all starting to feel better, though. Finally. And the drowsiness from the Benedryl is starting to kick in, also meaning my adrenaline rush from the reaction is finally wearing off. Not that I'll be doing brain surgery anytime soon, but it's nice not to have my hands shake like a leaf during a hurricane.

This hasn't happened a lot lately, thankfully. But is has happened multiple multiple times over the years. Mostly the problem is in the desserts, but this is the first time I've ever had Death-By-Meatballs. Death By Chocolate? Sure. Death By Muffins? Pretty common. Death By Key Lime Pie? Death By Cheesecake? More often than you can imagine. Death by Italian? It amazes me how many people don't know that pesto has nuts in it. Even chefs don't realize it, because a lot of places use pre-made pesto and don't read the ingredient list. But the meatball trick was as surprising as finding pecans in a shaker of chocolate sprinkles. I never in a million years would have guessed that one.

Apparently my stomach is on-board with the whole-body rejection plan too, because a few minutes after I ate my deadly-but-delicious meatball, I threw it all up. Man, was that lovely the second time around. I threw up again after the movie, too. It was awesome.

This "date night" may have been mostly a bust, but at least the movie -- Underworld, Rise of the Lycans -- was good, and I didn't have to get an epinephrine shot. I hate those things. Getting one is like shotgunning fifteen double-espresso coffees within minutes. The thought of one of those self-injectors is pretty appalling, too, actually. But all in all, it wasn't a complete loss of an evening. Somehow. I didn't end up in the emergency room, and the hubby didn't tackle me for that emergency trachiotomy he's always wanted to perform. (Why do I let him carry around the pen AND the knife???)

Anyway, hopefully my hives will start disappearing in a few hours, and the itching will subside. Crossing my fingers!

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