July 11, 2008

Me: Confusing Doctors Since 1971

So the plan was, for me to go in and get allergy shots this summer. I'd start them, see whether they killed me (apparently that can happen, though it's extremely rare), and continue during the school year.

Before mixing up the magic serum with which to inject me, the allergist wanted to do another skin test, just to make sure the primary culprit was actually still dust, and that nothing had been added to the mix. I went in Tuesday, and here's the thing: NOTHING showed up as a positive allergen.

This is bizarre.

A year and a half ago, the dust mite spot was clear and obvious almost from the moment the little needle touched me (the nurse commented on it as she was setting the timer they use to give you enough time to finish reacting). I also had, according to the doc, "minor" reactions to cockroaches and something I now forget. So when I saw the same doc this time, she said she was frankly perplexed. We both agreed that we'd try the test again in a few months (3 to 6) to see what we can see; she said that it does happen, sometimes, that people just don't react at one point and will at another. I said, "Could I be *cured*?" and the reply was that it was, just like everything, possible.

Personally, I have a few theories, but since there's only one in the test group and no controls at all, it's difficult to verify cause and effect. So here they are, in no particular order:

  • Maybe getting really, really, really sick and then taking the Prednisone last winter somehow "reset" my immune system (to be honest, I have felt top-notch the last few weeks.)
  • Maybe more distance from the whole ordeal of child-bearing and breast-feeding has let my body heal itself and replenish some nutrients it needed to not be so tense and sensitive.
  • Maybe eating almost all organic has somehow lessened my reactivity (that's been since February).
  • Maybe the tech who mixed the test-prick potions messed up.
  • Maybe my life goal is actually to show up in as much medical literature as possible before I die (no one had heard of the asthma attacks with C-sections thing, either...)
  • or, Maybe I really am better.

So far, that's all I can think of.

On the up side, I don't have to have shots unless and until I have a positive skin test again. And maybe I'll enjoy our coming beach escape even more than I was expecting, if the furnishings don't make me so sneezy!


Tami said...

The immune system is an amazing and weird thing. Also, pg DEFINITELY affects it in a meeeelion ways! I'm still trying to shut mine *off*, but I am making progress. The profound fatigue is still kicking my butt, though. *sigh*

So glad you are feeling better! Prednisone can definitely be a wonder drug at times.

Tami said...

Also, the asthma attack during csec thing...I am wondering if that's related to the anesthesia? I know I have a bunch of strange reactions (not asthmatic but definitely related to/would lead up to anaphylaxis) to various ones pain and sedation drugs and we have to choose carefully for me.

Noah, who is asthmatic, had surgery in April, and we had a 3-hour meeting with two anesthesiology partners the day before just to make sure we had everything checked out very carefully beforehand and everything was planned out as well as possible for all contingencies. LOVE small town hospitals. I have been meaning to blog that event for, oh, MONTHS now.

Ginger Ogle said...

Yeah, I wondered about the anesthetic, too. Or any of the other pre-op stuff they gave me both times (since both were, technically, emergencies...)

I plan to completely annoy the next doctor who numbs me, given that I have the chance. :)

Ginger Ogle said...

Surgery for Noah? You must explain!!! (unless it's, you know, psychologically embarrassing for him...)

Tami said...

No, no no...nothing that awful, he just needed some sedation dentistry. I need to blog about it, I have some cute photos and everything. It's just sort of a long story to explain...he seems to have some genetically predetermined issues with enamel. He was under for about 3 hours and then it took at least that many hours for him to come out of it enough to come home. Harrowing at the time (for the mama) but becoming a distant memory.