|Not at ALL helpful.|
Every spring and again in late summer, allergy season hits me like a ton of bricks coated in pollen. It is the worst. Oh, how I wish there was some sort of relief available for me. BUT THERE ISN'T.
Coach made a comment the other morning about the funny noises I make when my allergies are at their worst. This is nothing new to me. I realize that the sounds I create in my quest to itch the back of my throat, the roof of my mouth, and the tubes between my ears are nothing short of grotesque, startling, and offensive. At times I have a hard time remembering not to make these sounds in front of non family members. Yes, I have managed to frighten innocent bystanders in public. There is very little I can say to explain myself. I think it is clear that I am dealing with my own personal Hell, so judge away.
|Oh, how I miss this |
My 3rd grade teacher was alarmed at how difficult it was for me to read aloud when she called on me one day in spring. I couldn't see the page because my eyes were red puffy slits with tears running down my face. My eye itching still occurs but it now pales in comparison to the more tortuous throat itching. 3rd grade teach suggested to my mom that I see a doctor for allergies. That never happened.
Will you become frustrated with the 'middle child' under tones (or over-the-top tones) on my blog, if I mention that my brother Pat received allergy shots weekly as a toddler? Now, Pat did have serious issues. His allergies coupled with severe asthma were worse than my seasonal shit, but do you have to be near death to be treated? When does insanely miserable become a thing worthy of attention?
There is nothing over the counter to help. NOTHING. When I was in college I made an appointment for myself with an allergist. I reacted to everything they tested me for save a few things. I think they tested me for close to 100 allergens. They poked on my back with little needles dipped in allergens, and then waited to see if I would respond. I looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame when the nurse came in to check on me. She gasped loudly and asked if I was OK. My folks thought the shot/medicine regiment that this doc suggested was too intense. So instead we opted to do nothing.
In the spring my itchy-where-you-can't-reach symptoms last till maybe mid or end of June. In August it starts and I know it will subside after the first frost. I get that turning on the air conditioning and keeping the windows closed helps, but I do step outside here and there. Besides, we are not hip on paying huge AC bills.
My point (I know I've circled around it - I'm sleepy, 'member?) was that I think Coach's obliviousness to my lifelong struggle - a life that he has been part of for like 25 years if you count dating plus the marital bliss years - is startling. I was dumbfounded when I heard his: 'Can't you take something for that?' loud and clear despite any ear drum damage I have withstood for constantly rhythmically thumping the palm of my hand quickly against the opening of my ear. Like a plunger for the ear. Trust me, it ain't pretty. I'd add a video or a soundbite here, but I try to only subject close friends and family to my allergy antics.
How does a spouse not recognize that this is an ongoing (seasonal) nightmare? Perhaps he has memory issues that are more emergent than my itchiness.
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