Mr. Man and the Peanut Allergy: Part 1

In lieu of Valentine's day, I thought I'd post an excerpt from my peanut allergy journal:

...Neither Mr. Man nor I can remember me telling him about my allergy at a significant moment. He says he came to the realization that he was going to have to give up peanut butter. There were some weekends that I would be away overnight for work, and he would eat as much p.b. as he could in 24 hours, wash really well, and come home. He did it all at the office, of course, and did everything he could, short of burning his clothes, to decontaminate himself. The same would happen if he was away overnight. He would buy a whole bunch of Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, peanut butter and white bread and gorge himself in his hotel room, clean up and come home the next day. An affair to remember.

In fact, Mr. Man had never seen me have an allergic reaction until a year after we were married. We were at a wedding reception of some friends, and when the food was brought out I asked about peanuts. (I could see walnuts on the green beans and wondered about a peanut sauce). After checking with the kitchen, the waitress reassured us that there were no peanuts, and then in the time it took for me to take a bite of my dinner, she left and came back saying she was wrong. (Later, I wondered if she really did ask the first time.) I had not swallowed my food yet, but the inside of my mouth was on fire. We jumped up and left (I spat out the beans) and we drove to the hospital. It was a learning experience in our marriage. Mr. drove like a madman! He had the four-ways flashing, the horn blowing, and at one time he even crossed the median and drove headlong into traffic. I was terrified, and a little embarrassed. The thing was, the hospital was just a few blocks away. I did not need my epi-pen as the hospital would administer epinephrine if I needed it, and my reaction was not extending into my throat. The story went on from there; an argument ensued involving a nurse, (I was not at my best), a cop approached Mr. Man for parking in a no parking zone as I ran into the hospital, (Mr. almost claimed I was a doctor), and over time we realized my reaction was not manifesting into what it could have been. We were able to return to the wedding dance and reassure our friends that everything was fine. Months later, Mr. Man got a long lecture about his driving skills when I was in labour with our firstborn.

Needless to say, all was done out of love, and as this fanciful day approaches, may you be rescued, if for the first time or the millionth, by your love.