Allergy Quagmire: Soothing Myself

Photo: my son & the puppy who couldn't stay.

I have a little boy with food, pet, and outdoor allergies. There is much more to know about him and most of it is wonderful, but this post is about his allergies. The truth is, we don't even have the true picture of what he's allergic to. The doctors themselves admit that their testing is unreliable with false positives and false negatives. Some allergies that we are sure of are quite serious. Others, like a couple of foods, we will continue to experiment with. While testing sometimes backs up a suspicion, just as often, the child will still react to a food regardless of a low or negative skin prick result.

Our son's Epi-Pens and Benadryl follow him everywhere--from classroom to classroom and from home to playground or road trip. In a month, we will take our first (short) plane trip with him. We will talk to the airline about pets on the plane (even cats are allowed under the seat) and about the nut allergy. I will hold my breath for the one hour and 41 minute flight. We wilderness camp (in fact, I've got another blog in the works on this happier subject) away from roads and hospitals. We are careful and feel that the many benefits outweigh the risks. We eat out rarely, and so far, we have always brought safe food. We know that eating out and letting the restaurant prepare our son's food is our next hurdle and one we keep avoiding.

I try not to talk about it with him other than to ask him how he's feeling and if he needs anything. Mostly he is accepting and pretty Zen about the whole thing. Sometimes he lets me know that he is angry about the allergies and that he thinks he will not have them when he grows up. I tell him that I hate them, too, but that he is not alone. I agree with him that it is good to have hope. There could be a cure or better medicine or maybe he will outgrow a few food allergies. Plus, look at how many ways in which he is so fortunate and healthy and strong. Usually he brightens quickly and wants to know what is for dessert.

This morning, I gave him more Claritin (a non-drowsy antihistamine). He had T-ball last night and he seemed more congested. "Are the allergies worse or is it the start of a cold?" I wonder. I speak to him calmly at breakfast about how now that he is older and communicates so well, I will leave it up to him to tell me when he's uncomfortable. I've done it for him since before he could speak--trying to read his mind and his skin (always a good indicator of what is happening inside). But if playing T-ball, for example, were to really aggravate his allergies, he needs to help me make decisions about that. I don't want to limit him and only he can say just how annoying that constantly itchy nose he's had the last couple of weeks really is. His reassuring and nasal response? "I feel fine, Mama. I would never stop playing T-ball." I admire his toughness and wonder if maybe he doesn't know what being totally comfortable feels like anyway.

When giving him an allergy med, I always ask myself: Is this stuff working? Would he be worse without it? Should we try something else? The fact is, it makes me feel better. I watch him breathe when he's sick, keep his skin moisturized, carry his medicines everywhere, buy the best foods, supplement him, stay informed, and make some hard decisions about his health care, including vaccination. But nothing I do will allow him to have a puppy or go to a friend's home where there are pets or have that piece of birthday cake someone else made. So, assuaging my own feelings of inadequacy, I give him one more Claritin, have him blow his nose, and take his word for it that he feels just fine.