Friday, September 17, 2010

an EPIc day

The Mommy in me, the emotional, protective mother in me, feels like we've moved to a new level of allergy.  Why wouldn't I? Emergency, life saving Epinephrine, means that you have emergency, life threatening allergies.  
The logical me, the intelligent, thinker in me says this is good.  I tell myself that his allergies have not changed, but his medicines, and my ability to protect him has.  Put the bows and arrows away, we are now equipped with heavy machinery.  

Gabriel has suffered from food allergies since he was born.  Before he was ever fed more than breastmilk, he has suffered from severe food reactions.  The list of foods that Gabriel avoids is longer than the Mississippi.  Finally, by his third year, I've made such a science of his diet-and my kitchen- that he lives nearly symptom free.  Just in the last few months, just as I thought I could finally control his health through his diet, I've learned that it's more than that.  
Just a few weeks ago, we went out to eat.  With such a specific diet, we ordered a plain chicken breast for Gabriel.  I had to send it back to the kitchen 3 times- they couldn't get the 'plain' just right.  In the meantime, they delivered my dinner.  Pasta served in a nice butter sauce, adorned with jumbo shrimp, mussels, and scallops.  I took a bite- and heard a cough.  Before I got through my swallow i realized we had a problem.  I packed up our stuff- my sister handled the check- and we rushed to the car with our artillery of medicines.  I've always been lucky to have my sister around, she is always so quick to read my mind and help us run out the door.  It happened so fast but it was clear- this reaction wasn't from something he ate.  I did some research and warned the family- keep him away from shellfish.  It happened again- this time at a relatives- when some mushrooms were stuffed with crabmeat.  What I thought might be pretty clear, was now obvious.  We visited the pulmonologist a week later, and he some blood tests.

 Today I took these test results to the allergist,  and I feel like we've left with a new life.  No baseball games, or circus trips.  No restaurants at all(that serve any type of seafood).  He suggested homeschool, and sent us home with an EpiPen.  

Its always been ironic to me, that the one thing that we all use to nourish us, that our survival relies on, can be the end of someone.  Food is so important, yet so dangerous in our lives.   Im proud of what I can cook on his limited diet.  Im excited that I can keep him healthy and growing on such a limited pallet.  I always know what to order, and how to make safe food yummy. 
Now, the air that he breathes, the smell of a fish, or the dust of a peanut, and one inhale-can put him in distress.  I cant save him from what he breathes.  I cant taste his air first- or cook it the right way.  I cant screen the air- or ask questions about it's ingredients...Now, the air he breathes, truly the one things we cant live without, can hurt him as well.  

We will go about our lives, sitting at the 'safe table' in the cafeteria,  staying home from field trips, and watching sporting events from the couch.  We will continue to be happy, and grow up strong, carrying a backpack full of medicine everywhere we go.   And, although we entered a new category of awareness today;  I will assume that it will be enough; that we never have to use the lifesaving drugs we carry, and the oxygen he breathes, and the food he eats, keeps him healthy.

1 comment:

  1. I always knew how serious and life changing the world around Gabriel was and is. But reading it so well said with strength and fear brings tears to my eyes. I am sobbing as I read this out loud to my man and wonder how can this be? Raquel has done so wonderful protecting Gabriel that this is not fair. Thankfully Gabriel is as much a winner as his Mom that I know somehow he will be able to manage and conquer the cards of life he has been dealt. She sets a wonderful positive attitude for him with the correct dose of caution not to be ignored. Tell me, when does a 3 year old ask, "Oma, what are the ingredients in this?".

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