In my memory, the beginning of my allergic reactions was back at the farm while helping my Grandpa and Uncle Jack during milk time. I loved going to grab a Folger-sized can of grain from the grain bin for each Momma cow that came in to be milked. The grain bin was milo and soybean meal, all of which we grew on the farm with nothing more than a mineral pack added—no pesticides.
Memories I have of when the allergic reactions all started:
The first hives that made a lasting memory
All of a sudden, something normal for me to do changed. I began breaking out in hives all over. I went inside, and my Grandma—a nurse—sent me straight to the bathroom to hop in a bath and soak. The hives were not going away, and I remember the whites of my eyes began swelling to the point where I almost couldn’t close them. I can’t recall what the resolution was; I just remember a lot of buzzing of people talking about what was next.
The Doctor
I was constantly getting sick. It seemed to never end in middle school. I was out for a sinus infection, ear infections, and chest infections. It got to the point where I convinced the doctor that I just hated school, and I even overheard him say that I needed “to see a psychologist” instead of him. My heart sank. I didn’t hate school, I freaking love people and not being around them made me sad. Going to school was fun for me. I felt ashamed, as if I was doing something wrong. I felt like I should just not say when I wasn’t feeling well because even the doctor thought I was making myself sick.
Asthma, although we didn’t put it together at this time
I was and still am a runner. I loved the freedom to just go and go. I joined the track team, though I ended up doing shotput and disc throwing. Because of my seemingly constant sickness, I missed enough track meets that the coach told me I was not allowed to be in the team track photograph. I was devastated. I had done the practices, but for some reason my body was against me, and I didn’t know why all of a sudden I was having a hard time breathing. I ended up in the photograph thanks to my mom, who called the coach, but my track coach didn’t hide the fact that he wasn’t happy about it. I smiled in that photograph because I knew I had done my best, even if some of the people around me couldn’t see that.
I am still a runner to this day. When my shoes’ “running life” is over, I keep them for “chore shoes”. Still not a fast runner, but I do love it!
Second Degree Burns
I loved early mornings and swimming, so it worked out well that I had early morning swim classes. I was going to a swim class one morning, and my Mom got after me for not applying enough sunscreen the day before. I had a little burn and, as any good mom does, she said she would make sure I was covered so that I would not be burned worse. The result was a visit to the ER and the doctor asking my Mom if I had been in a flash pan fire. The doctor worked through the possibilities before asking about an allergy. I remember my mom’s horrified voice near tears: “I did this to her?”
I didn’t blame her for trying to be a good mom. She hadn’t known what the unfortunate outcome would be. I had to keep oil on my face at all times to prevent scarring. The skin slowly peeled away, leaving only a slight line by my chin as a physical reminder of the reaction. At first, I hid. I felt like a monster. Then, as the summer went on and I felt trapped in my own home, I decided not to care about what people thought of me. My face was what it was. People could stare; I just simply didn’t care. My Grandma Lundy had a stroke that year and she wouldn’t go out in public. I told her that if I could go out looking like I did, she could go out. I went with her to the grocery store. I told her more people would be staring at my face than hers, which was paralyzed on one side from her stroke.
Allergy testing in middle school
My mom scheduled allergy testing for me. There it was: The answers, or so we thought.
If you haven’t had skin allergy testing on your back, here’s how it goes. They use a marker to make lots of dots on your back, then prick those dots with the allergen and let it marinate. They then come back after a set time and record whether the spot is swollen or not. If it is swollen, they compare it to a scale they have. No reaction means you are not allergic to that specific allergen. If there is swelling, the amount of it shows how reactive you are to that allergen.
I was allergic to almost the whole panel. I should mention that there is a different panel for whichever region you live in, depending on what grows there. I learned how important this was in 2019. I didn’t know this bit of information, though I wish I had. I now know that in middle school, my allergies were a symptom of what I have.
Mindy Tip: If you are moving and have allergies, you can ask your immunologist to pull an "allergy panel". To produce this, an allergy institute refers to a blood test that measures the level of IgE antibodies in your blood to a specific set of allergens specific to the geographical location you will be moving to.
The tests showed that I was allergic to my Kansas world
It explained why I got so sick at school. We didn’t have AC, but we did have giant windows that opened to the outside world. Being at school in an unfiltered environment made me sick. It turned out that school did make me sick in some ways.
Recommendations: Allergy shots and inhaler
Learning you have to let go of things you love
The doctor recommended getting rid of the carpet, down pillows, and comforters in my room, as well as using an AC with filters to cool the house instead of our ceiling fan. There were many things we changed. I was not happy about the down comforter. I still remember how I begged and pleaded for it not to be thrown away. My parents entertained me for a bit, but on the last day in a KOA on a camping trip in Woodland, CO, we were packing up, I went to take a shower, and we headed out. A few miles down the road, I asked where my blanket was and they told me they threw it away at the campground. I have not forgotten that, Mom! ;)
