Nut desegregation
Stella is allergic to nuts… OR IS SHE?
Backing up a bit: When Stella was a toddler, she ate some cashews. Quite a few cashews, in fact, before I caught up with her and took away the bag. And a few hours later she broke out in a set of angry hives, all over her little baby body, and we landed in the Cooley Dickinson ER at nine o’clock p.m. for a shot of epinephrine and good ol’ cry.
The allergist handed us a few Epi-Pen Jrs and the directive to avoid not just cashews but all tree nuts. And, he said, also peanuts. Because even though peanuts and tree nuts are totally different animals, it was just simpler that way.
Simpler for him, maybe. Not simpler for us. Not simpler for anyone around us, either. Stella was that kid — the one who forces an entire preschool classroom to avoid PB&J sandwiches for a whole year. (It was not my idea. I swore I was okay with other kids’ allergenic lunches. The director insisted! I promise!)
But the allergist also said this might not be forever, this nut segregation. When Stella was about age five, she could be retested.
Today was the big day. We’ve avoided all antihistamines for a week in preparation for this. I picked Stella up from kindergarten early so she could get a series of scratch tests on her arms and back. And the results were negative! My heart leapt for joy until I heard the next step: bloodwork.
Let’s put it this way: Stella’s not stoic about shots. She puts up an impressive fight against any and all needles. I knew I’d need backup, and the phlebotomists came out in force to make the bloodletting as quick and streamlined as it could possibly be. What I didn’t bargain for was how pathetically articulate — and LOUD — she would be throughout the whole thing. I can only imagine what it was like for people in the waiting room to overhear her: “NO! STOP! AAAAGHHHHHH! TAKE IT OUT OF ME! BLOOD IS STREAMING OUT OF ME! AAAGHHHH! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!” And when it was finally over (thank effin’ god) she marched out of the office with what she termed her “bloodtaking” arm held ramrod straight in front of her and her face streaked with tears. Not a confidence-building sight for any new patients.
So. If that test is also negative, we move on to the “food challenge” — which involves three hours of eating ever-increasing amounts of cashews, and if that ends up being positive I imagine it will be no big deal, because Stella will be so heartily sick of cashews she’ll never want to eat another one anyway.
(I brought her to Sweeties afterwards. I sprang for the two-foot-tall rainbow twisty lollipop. You would have, too.)
