Peanut Allergy: Save Their Life and Apologize for it Later.

When I first started this blog, I was writing about growing up with a peanut allergy.  It eventually turned comical as I introduced my children on the scene, and dramatic, as life ensued.  Today I am again writing about my peanut allergy, as it again has shown its ugly face.

And I thought I was so safe.

I have never known why I have my allergies.  No one else in my family does.  I was born with it.  God gave it to me, I guess.  I spent most of my childhood mad about that.  And most of my adult life, really.  But, within the confines and safety of my life I really kind of forgot about it.

Little Miss and her brother are both teenagers now.  Mr. Man and I dream of days where we have a clean house, time to ourselves, and we don't have to drive the kids everywhere, and feed them three times the amount we eat, and so on.  The Big P (as in, peanut) occasionally showed up in menu planning for camping, going for ice cream, or trying to find a certain almond butter.  Mr. and the kids would go out of town and come back all washed and changed, "We had peanut butter last night, Mom! But we didn't like it - not one bit," they'd lie.

But really, I have a safe life - my home is safe and this is where I spend my time.  The majority of my friends have known me for years and know the drill.  No peanuts.  No exceptions.  Easy peasy.

Well, then I made new friends.  Wonderful new friends who had children who needed friends.  And the Big P reared its ugly head.  Everywhere.  Off a kitchen table, off a person's clothes, off a piece of paper, in a neighbour's lunch (in a small room), and in a dorm 1000s of kms from home.  With no car.  And no Mr. Man.

So really, I shouldn't make new friends.  That's the lesson. 

Well, no, but there are two things I want to say to those of you who know someone who has a serious allergy, or has one:

1.  A reaction to something as oily as the Big P can happen ANYWHERE.  Even if you think you've cleaned your house, she may still find that one little spot under the counter and rub it in her eyes.  Guess what? It's not your fault!!  Insurance brokers or lawyers may say otherwise (dirty rats) but a reasonable allergic person knows there is an extremely high probability of coming in contact with the Big P as soon as she steps out of her house.  I've got it off a steering wheel of a friend's car or off of the cleanest leather couch.  Some of us refuse to hold door knobs or handrails because they know the stakes.  And it's always going to be like this. 

Please don't feel guilty when you've done your best.  And please have us over again.  Please?

2.  Secondly, when there is a serious reaction going on - and I mean serious - the allergic person may not be in their right mind.  This is very hard for me to say (and very easy for my mother to say).  Someone needs to take charge, and the patient may quite possibly want to run and hide.  Call it shock, call it fight or flight, that person may make every excuse in the book not to jab that epipen in their leg and call 911.  Please, please, do everyone a favour and as Nike said, "Just Do It!" 

Save their life and apologize for it later.  I know this idiot would forgive you.

For those of you who are interested in how to use an epipen, check out this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXlqSuzzrws



Erin

Reflections, Labradors, and Glimpses of Little Miss

It is a cool morning in August and I (and my hair) are grateful the humidity has disappeared for at least today. School is starting in just a few days and it is the perfect time to reflect on this past summer.

Spring and summer in our little village is delightful, as are most little towns in Southern Ontario, filled with the sounds of cardinals and squirrels (much to the chagrin of our pup) and the smells of lilacs, roses and phlox. I can't help but think of my friend as I write this who dislikes flowery language in books and will close this link immediately.

But oh, I am feeling contemplative today.

Our son has turned into a labrador puppy this summer. No longer soft and cuddly, his hands and feet have grown so much, you can tell he has a growth spurt approaching.  And like the beloved canine, he trips and bangs into things, clumsy with his limbs.

Little Miss, forever the main character of my stories, has walked through a magical curtain. She astounds me with her beauty and self-confidence, neither of which I had at her age, although Mom would say otherwise, and I can't help but stop and study her.

Then, all of a sudden, I see a glimpse of my girl as the green panties she's chosen show through under her yellow lacy dress at her cousin's wedding.  Oh, how the sunshine was her nemesis that day, unbeknownst to her.  Her saving grace was the beautiful bride who drew all attention, as she should. Only her doting, studious Mother noticed and grinned.

Mr. Man, as ever, is his heroic self, taking emergency trips to the drugstore for his cyclical women, bringing home paper products and bars of chocolate.  He arrives, caped donned, with a small bead of sweat on his brow, holding the sweetie at arms length as not to get hurt in the distribution.

He and his trusty labrador descend to the safety of the basement, happy in the company of each other, for the next five to seven days...

Gone are the days of cake baking, food intolerances, and childish questions. Our summer was filled with babysitting courses, vacation bible school leadership, and scoffs at parents.  Gone are the cuddles on mom's lap, and candies as rewards. This summer I found myself looking up at them, chasing them for hugs, and giving money as rewards.  Oh, the heartbreak.

And so begins part two of my life with CrackerJacks and Nutters - the enormous need of humour and reflection as always... but with teenagers. 

Heaven help us all.

The Atlantic Canada Whirlwind Trip - Part 1

Grand Falls Gorge, Grand Falls, New Brunswick

We are in the midst of a 11-day whirlwind tour of Atlantic Canada.  Beautiful! Amazing! Exhausting!

Little Miss had received acceptance to the AVC's (Atlantic Veterinary College) summer camp for the middle of July, which is on Prince Edward Island, so we jumped at the chance to go as a family.  Unfortunately, Mr. Man could only get a few days off, so much of the trip has been zipping down the TransCanada Highway, racing the clock (time change and all) to get to a new province each day. We keep saying the two of us will come back another time after the kids are grown.

So far what we have learned:

1. Mr. Man wants to move to New Brunswick.
2. Many Ontarians move out East from the Toronto area and open bed and breakfasts.
3. Nova Scotians drive slowly.  And have fabulous accents.
4. UNESCO has taken over.
5. Islander Canadians apologize much, much more than Ontarians...
6. You can get around Atlantic Restaurants without eating shellfish (Mr. is allergic).
7. Speaking of driving: Nova Scotian drivers need signs on the highway stating "WRONG WAY" as they tend to merge in the wrong direction.
8. Cows Ice Cream IS indeed the best.
9. The ocean is a fascinating place.
10. Little Miss will develop a bruise for each province travelled: falling down stairs, tripping on rocks....why STEP into the ocean upon your first look when you can FALL in it while completely dressed??

More to come!

Erin