allergic to everything...

Allergy & pulmonary function testing were interesting. First of all, the PFT test was obviously aimed at 9 year olds. When I blew into the cardboard and plastic tube as hard as I could, I faced an ancient computer monitor that had a smiley birthday cake on it with about 10 "lit" candles taunting me. The goal was to virtually blow out as many of the candles as possible in a single breath. First try - all but 3; second chance all but four; third all but 1. Apparently they take the average and whatever my average was, the cake still continued to hypnotically smile at me, promising me a hundred million birthday wishes come true. I found the whole thing a bit contrite, but hey, who am I to judge - all I had to do was blow, no big deal, I'm good at that.

The next test was a bit more intrusive. I had to take my shirt off and lay on my belly. A nurse cleaned my back with alochol. Then she proceeded to place 40 or so drops of allergen extracts on my back after writing numbers across my shoulders. Within a few seconds of placing the extracts on my back, it started to itch. I wondered out loud if this was normal, and the nurse said

"Not really but it is once she starts scratching."

Scratching I thought? Huh? That's when she took out the sharp needle and began to scrape the surface of my skin slightly where each extract was placed. Not miserable, but not remotely pleasant either.

"Now we wait fifteen minutes for a reaction," she said and gave me a funny look as she left the room.

Fifteen minutes? Seriously, why wait? Literally within seconds of the extract being applied (BEFORE the damn scratches) I was already reacting. My back was on fire and swelling up Yet apparently it doesn't count if they don't wait fifteen minutes, so alas I had no choice but to wait.

So I waited, laying on my belly on a really uncomfortable office bed. I started to drift asleep. I felt the paper on the table adhering to my face due to drool emitting from my mouth, which of course woke me up. Gross! The entire time I was laying there, my back was completely inflamed and just begging me to scratch it. "Please oh please," said my back, "please rub me on the corner of that wall and relieve this misery!". I resisted. I was a good girl and for once did not itch an intense scratch even though the urge was stronger than ever. Score one for JB.

Eventually an alarm went off to indicate my 15 minutes passing, and in walked Doctor Suri Suresh. The first thing out of his mouth was "Oh my goodness, that doesn't look good, not good at all". Next he went on and on about how bad of a reaction I had to all the grasses, trees, molds and weeds... apparently it was quite impressively horrid. I think he liked that fact a lot more than I did.

Sadly, I am also mildly allergic to dogs and cats, but the good Lord shown down on me and thankfully kept horses, feathers and barn dust off the incredibly long list. Because we all know I encounter those all the damn time, so what a relief! At one point it occured to me that it was faster to talk about what I'm NOT allergic to than what I am as apparently the list is very very long. No suprise I guess, although I didn't quite enjoy the lecture I received about my need for weekly allergy shots and the fact my asthma is allergy induced. Apparently he had a hard time believing I didn't already know this was the case. Well duh, of I knew this subconsciously. I just hate needles and choose to ignore it and avoid allergy testing over the years at all costs...but alas, I have come to realize that the weekly shots are going to be far better than the stints in the hospital Dr. Suresh promised me if I didn't concede, so I have given in. Shots start next week. Oh glory be.

Next came the requisite bag 'o drugs. Every time I go to the doctor these days I leave with a white plastic bag full of drugs. Usually they don't do squat to help me, but my dear Suri has promised me that I'm going on the right cocktail now to make my life better. And dammit, i actually believe him. I just hope the bill from the pharmacist each month doesn't put me in anaphalactic shock on it's own.

So anyway, I am now ready to admit something I formerly chose to ignore. I am asthmatic. Yes, indeed, I'm getting old, I've developed asthma and I'm allergic to most of the free world. Oh well, it could be worse. Like I could have aggressive toe fungus or diabetes or a gimp arm. I mean seriously, let's look on the bright side here. Yes, I have to have shots once a week, an inhaler twice a day and pills and nasal inhalers when my allergies are really really bad. But at least I still have a sense of humor and look good, right?

:P

my gripes for today

First off, I am an idiot. I was measuring out shots of vodka tonight so as to keep within my dietary allowance yet still get a buzz. A few drinks in and NADA, so I decided "fuck being healthy, I'm gonna get drunk" and measured out some more. Ha. To my chagrin, I'm a complete idiot and was using the 'tablespoon' line on my new fancing shot glass measuring cup instead of ounces. No wonder I wasn't drunk - I was getting less than half of the juice than I thought. LOL dear lord I'm an idiot.

Next thing to bitch about. My face. I acknowledge the fact that I am not ugly, deformed or gross in any remote way. Pretty in a nerdy-girl way I can even acknowledge. But one thing I hate about myself is that I am far more pretty in pictures than I am in real life. Being photogenic is definitely NOT a curse, but why in the hell did I not realize this when I was younger and could actually make some money from it, even if it was just doing Schottenstein's ads or something? And to be honest, I'd rather look that good in real life instead of being someone that "takes a good picture". Seriously, i've actually had guys comment about how much great I look in pictures as if it's okay to say i'm hot in pics and not in person. Bleh. fuck em all. By the way, for those of you who might be reading this and know me, don't even bother trying to convince me that I'm just as pretty in person as I am in pics, or that looks don't matter or that I'm being silly. I really truly don't care what your opinion is on this matter, as I am actively choosing to obsess about it independent of anyone else's existence and my stance cannot be changed. Ha.

Tomorrow is allergy testing and pulmonary function testing day. Woot woot woot. I can't wait, but not because I think the testing is going to do squat to help with my allergies or breathing issues, but because I cannot WAIT to take my allergy meds again. Going 2 days without has been miserable. I woke up at 530am this morning in mid-sneeze from a sound sleep! Seriously, how does that even happen? I can't wait to ingest the latest loves of my life - zyrtec and singulair. Oh how I love thee, prescription antihistamines. Cometh with me to a day with less snot and eyes which are not red. Let us bask in the joy of no sneezing. Aye, do I miss thee...

Ok i'm bored with blogging for now. Talk at you later.

x

j.

woo first post woo

So. Here I am. Yes, blogging. And yes, not on myspace or facebook. Woo.

I am currently undergoing polarity therapy and my lovely therapist, Suzi Wilcoff, recommended I start writing down my feelings whenever I feel blocked or anxious. And I hate hand writing anything...so here I am. Now, let's be clear about these polarity treatments... I am not paying for them. If I were, I would not be going. Not that they aren't helpful - they are incredibly relaxing and cleansing - but I just can't afford shit like this when I could get acupuncture or counselling on my insurance for far cheaper. Alas, it is not I who pays for these sessions, it is the CXO of my company. She's worried about my stress levels and struggles with asthma-like symptoms lately, and gave me four sessions as a gift. Two sessions down now, two to go. And yes, I like it a lot. Not as much as I like the herbal tea Suzi gave me to make at home, but almost as much. And no, I'm not a hippie, new age-ist or any sort of guru following gal. I just like the intimacy of bonding with a complete yet sensitive stranger over my day's woes and getting a massage while we're talking. And did I mention that it's free?

Struggling a lot lately with figuring out my future. Not my long term forever future - I pretty much know where I want that to lead - but the short term what-do-i-do-until-i-move-to-England future. Work sucks. My family vacillates between annoying me and amusing me on a weekly basis. Me and my friends aren't as down depressed and desperate as we all used to be, so we don't spend 3-4 nights a week together anymore. And I have options. Lots of them. Yet I feel completely paralyzed sometimes, like I couldn't walk three feet to my front door let alone handle making a complete life change over the next few months. And I am waiting on a job offer from a past employer in the UK, incredibly incredibly impatiently.

All that sad, I am happy. I'm in love, I'm sure about what I want - more than ever before- and I definitely can't wait to get out of this allergen-infested State as soon as I can. By the way, I can't take my allergy medicine for the next two days because I have testing on Thursday. Which is horrid because the ugly guy on the news just said this week is going to be absolutely killer on allergy sufferers because of hot stagnant weather. Blech.

Later peeps. Gonna drink my herbal tea and force sleep upon my busy mind.

x