As I suspected, Danny needed his daily medications increased, though he's still breaking out in hives, etc. I guess it takes time. The allergist was pretty calm about it, but I suppose that goes with the job description. Meanwhile, yesterday I sat down to a piece of watermelon only to have my throat swell, breathing become difficult, and by the time the hives were breaking across my skin we were en-route to the hospital. Yeah, that was bad. I've never experienced anything quite like it-the quickness of the onset, and the seriousness of the reaction. All I can say is thank god for liquid benadryl and epinephrine. And prednisone. Lots and lots of prednisone. That jab in the arse hurt, by the way.
I've never had a previous reaction to watermelon, and even when exposed to cashews I don't have reactions that severe. Poor Danny, I've just had a first hand experience with a life threatening reaction, and it completely sucked. So yeah, we're both heavilly medicated at the moment (two kinds of antihistamines means twice the mind numbing fun, except I don't like to play Monopoly with a head full of benadryl and Allegra, but Danny does) and even so, we're still breaking out in hives that come and go, and sick to our stomachs.
Anyway, I figured with school starting tomorrow, I'd want to put all this prednisone energy to work, so I went clothes shopping. It seems less sinister walking around a department store when you're slightly out of it-almost a fun house effect but maybe people always seem that grotesque-hard to know. I bought a greatly discounted gold lame pleated blouse with bat wing sleeves. I'm am sooo going as the Statue of Liberty for Halloween this year. I was going to buy the matching hot pants but Danny said he wouldn't be seen with me wearing them, even if I added tights and boots. Kids. They have really unshakable opinions about fashion at that age.
Ugh, I wish I were in more of a mood to start the school year. The thought of reading The Waste Land (aloud) for the next couple weeks is making me want to wretch...or maybe that's the allergies again, or the steroids, or maybe I really don't feel like teaching T.S. Eliot to a seven year old. Yes, I should have saved it for second semester (April really is the cruelest month) but we do the Classical world second semester.
Wish us luck, with poets and allergists.
I cannot believe I developed an allergy to watermelon. What sort of freak develops an allergy to watermelon that lands them in hospital? This sort of freak, I guess. It figures, it really, really does that I have dozens of the bloody things thriving-positively taking over in the garden.
Anyone want a watermelon?