Ranking My Top 5 Allergic Reactions
I’ve had a nut allergy all my life. For a long time, I was allergic to all nuts. I had one of those woven bracelets with the metal plate saying I had an allergy with my mom’s phone number on it, pink with little flowers. Now, luckily, I’m only allergic to peanuts.
My allergy’s never been bad enough that I have a reaction because someone near me is eating peanuts, or that my elementary school class was banned from bringing PB&J’s. In order for me to have an allergic reaction, it has to either touch my face, or go down my throat (which, unsurprisingly, has a much worse outcome).
I carry an Epipen everywhere, but I’ve never used it. Sure, I should have, as you’ll see from the following stories, but instead I’ve chosen to rely on Benadryl, adrenaline, and hope to get me through. And I have, thankfully.
So without further ado, these are my top five allergic reactions that I’ve had in my 21 years of living.
5. Camping cookies
During the summer of my junior year of high school, I was camping in California with my family and our close family friends. We go nearly every year and spend a week at Burney Falls hiking to waterfalls, playing endless games of cribbage, and swimming in the lake as refuge from the heat.
One of our family friends’ own a bakery, and occasionally they will bring treats for us to enjoy. This particular year, they brought a couple boxes of cookies. Like the careful person I am, I asked to make sure there weren’t any peanuts. They said no. I bet you can see where this is going.
As it turns out, one of the kinds of cookies in the box did contain peanuts, and even though I didn’t eat that specific one, the cross-contamination led to a mild allergic reaction including a few hives on my arms and a slight tightening of the throat. Nothing super exciting, I just missed out on the games and s’mores for that night because I was sleeping off the Benadryl.
4. Blizzard, baby
Ah, the classic origin story. When I was a year old, my father made the delightful decision of allowing me to try a Butterfinger Blizzard from Dairy Queen. He clearly had not thought this one through, seeing as they had not gotten me tested for allergies yet.
This would be ranked higher if there was some sort of photographic or video proof, but since I wasn’t cognitively capable of remembering this incident, I can only look back and imagine what happened. My dad, being the fun dad that he is, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at my chubby Asian baby face, gives in and feeds me a spoonful of Blizzard. Moments later, the chubby Asian baby face is red and even puffier and my poor dad has to yell for my mom and brace himself for the trouble he’d be in once she found out he fed their firstborn child a peanut butter blizzard and gave me my very first allergic reaction, Thanks, Dad.
3. Snicker kisses
Obviously, as I got older and had several close calls with my allergy, I became more cautious. However, what’s caution when you’re in love?
My senior year of high school, I had my very first official boyfriend. Exciting, right? We both ran cross country and were in band together, etc etc. Five years later, everything about that relationship is insignificant and hopefully not in etched into my long term memory. Everything except the night of one of our band concerts.
An hour or so before the concert, we had arrived in our unattractive penguin suits to warm up. Shortly before we had to head to the green room, he gave me a kiss for good luck. Not generally a big deal, except this time he had eaten a Snickers bar about 5 minutes before he kissed me. Sure enough, one innocent peck on the lips caused my lips to tingle and slightly swell up. Not the best circumstances for a band concert in which I played a woodwind instrument. Thankfully, nothing worse happened, but it sure did spark an argument later that night because instead of worrying for my health, he found it amusing. Like I said, it’s all insignificant.
2. Brownies for angels
Also my senior year of high school, I helped with a retreat at my church. I was part of the ‘secret’ team (called Angels) that did all the behind-the-scenes work and was only revealed at the end. My brother was attending the retreat, so I was especially excited to surprise him at the end of the weekend.
The opening day was hectic. We arrived early to set up the entrance, prepped all the meals and placemats, and cleaned up afterwards. No one was allowed to see us. We would hide in the kitchen, storage room, wherever we could find. Because of this, we ended up eating dinner much later than everyone else.
By 9pm we were huddled in the kitchen, waiting for those attending the retreat to retire to their sleeping quarters for the evening. Like everyone else, I hadn’t eaten since lunch and was starving. We couldn’t heat up the remaining food because it would make too much noise, but our leader found some brownies and, stomachs growling, we immediately dug in. I did ask if there were peanuts and had a friend try it first, and they said “No, it tastes like butterscotch” (it wasn’t).
After eating an entire brownie and realizing it was not indeed butterscotch, my throat began its usual tightening, making it difficult to breathe. We had to walkie over one of the head leaders, search for Benadryl, and call my mom. Once I got the Benadryl, I was feeling better and was helping the rest of the group clean up the hall. But naturally, Benadryl + peanut butter brownie + empty stomach = disaster. I ended up puking in the garbage can and spending the night at home instead of helping with the retreat. Not the most angelic of evenings.
1. Pre-performance pudding
Once again, my — you guessed it — senior year of high school, my choir had the opportunity to perform at Benaroya Hall in Seattle. It was our largest concert of the year, and we were given the day off school to spend it rehearsing. At the end of the rehearsals, we were given an hour for dinner. A group of my friends and I decided to walk 10 blocks to a restaurant owned by our classmate Louis’s family. It was a Vietnamese restaurant and the food was phenomenal.
Towards the end of the meal, the waiter brought out a complimentary dessert since Louis was with us and they knew we had a concert to head to. It was a coconut banana pudding of some sorts, and, since we had to head back for sound check in the next couple minutes, we immediately dug in.
As I’m sure you’ve predicted, the delectable pudding that was offered to us for free was, in fact, topped with chopped peanuts. And of course, I didn’t notice until I had eaten my share. Not wanting to make a scene, I whispered to my friend what was going on. We were in our choir uniforms. I didn’t have Benadryl, much less an Epipen. We had walked there. And with every passing second, my throat was closing in.
We had no choice to run. My friend grabbed my hand and pulled me into a sprint, calling our choir director along the way. To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. But I do know we ran the 10 whole blocks back to Benaroya and ran all over the concert hall trying to find my choir director, the first aid table, or anyone that could help us. By the time we had gotten there, I was feeling quite faint, but was able to take a couple Benadryl.
Our choir was one of the first to perform, and naturally, I had a solo. Again, I don’t remember how I got through it, but I did the performance — breathing and without passing out — and promptly slept through the remainder of the concert. Maybe I should have gone to the emergency room. Oh well.
I haven’t had a reaction that bad in quite a while. I’ve learned to inspect “butterscotch” brownies with a close eye, ask clarifying questions about free food (breaking one of the cardinal rules of college students), and add “Did they eat peanut butter?” to the list of questions I ask myself when determining whether or not someone is kissable. My roommate loves to disappoint me every time she buys peanut butter chocolate ice cream. “I’m sorry, but we can’t make out tonight, Helena” she says, as though she’s using it as an excuse. One of these days she’ll have to come clean about why she really buys it. Surely it can’t be that good (though I guess I’ll never find out).
