No thanks

I'm processing the disturbing information departed to me this morning. Seriously, can you imagine me saying for the rest of my life when passed a plate, "No, thanks. I'm allergic to food"?

When I was told a few weeks ago, I had eosinophilic esophagitis, I had no idea what would be in store from the medical field for me. I visited an allergist yesterday who told some very interesting stories about Hindu monks (yes, they were really interesting) but didn't acknowledge my four pleas for an elimination diet plan. When the nurse announced a vast many number three reactions from the flaming red and pink checkerboard off my back from the scratch test, I asked, "What exactly is that reactivity scale anyhow?"

She simply replied, "0-4."

"So are you saying that I'm strongly reacting to entire columns and rows of allergens?" I inquired.

"Yep," she answered. When showed the charts of reactions, I realized there's practically nothing I can eat or breathe on planet Earth. Except onions. Now wouldn't that make me a fine human being? Imagine my halitosis...

The doctor proclaimed me to be a "highly allergic person", suggested I get another unreliable and costly test ($1,000 after insurance pays), and mentioned I could see his nurse practitioner in two months.

Thanks?

I left perplexed, but thought I'd take a breather from the Boost and eat some lunch. I relaxed next to my rice and stir fry veggies and savored the flavor of real live food for the first time in three weeks.

Then something happened that I never dreamed or experienced before. I had an anaphylactic reaction after 4 bites. I found myself wheezing, turning red, running to spit out the zucchini, onions, and rice. I hadn't gone on the Boost diet, because I couldn't breathe. I just wanted to have a baseline to start eliminating things my body isn't happy to receive.

I went to my GP today who graciously handed me a prescription for an epi pin and an appointment in 13 days with another allergist. The nurse, he, and I puzzled together that this was the fastest solution to my new predicament. "The allergist told me," shyly smiled the doc, "that people with your condition never eat food again."

"Did you tell them I'm a healthy 43 year old woman who happens to be attached to eating?" I sputtered.

I can't imagine this is the end of the story. Can you?