A coffee-free Christine

So Tuesday M made us some of the nice Kona coffee I had picked up at BJs. As I was sipping it on the way in, I started to get itchy. All over. Including my tongue. So I stopped at a red light and dumped that delicious, delicious drink into the street.

All day, I felt wheezy and funny. So I decided to stop and get a 50-cent iced coffee. It happened again, and this time I almost broke out in hives. I took two Benadryl and went to bed. Called the allergist the next day, and he wants me to abstain from the java until he can test me (May 5). I'm a mom -- how will I survive? I wonder if it was the Splenda?

My killer ex-boxer/Lab mix mutt

When M and I first bought our house in late 2002, we were so anxious to make it a home that a month after settling in, we adopted a dog named Oreo. She was so called because she was black and white, a mix of boxer and Lab. She had a black body with sandy fur interspersed and a big, square boxer jaw. She was pretty and smart, and we (especially M) adored her.

About three days after we got her, I went to visit M's grandmother, whose house has never seen the likes of a dog. Immediately, my nose cleared, and I felt like a million bucks. I realized something awful that day: I was allergic to my dog. I cried all the way home, because when I was a kid I had a cat that needed to be rehomed thanks to my rotten, super-powerful allergies. But this time was going to be different. I could manage.

I went to an allergist, who immediately told me my allergies were bad (duh) and that I needed to get rid of "it," my dog. I decided to start with allergy shots instead. Well, after two, I started getting chest tightening and difficulty breathing. The nurse told me there was no way I could be allergic to the teeny little bit of allergens she'd given me and that she'd lower the dose. I took another shot; I had another reaction. So we discontinued the shots.

I tried to make it work with my dog. I did. My house is almost totally carpeted, so I was constantly vacuuming and dusting. And I still felt like shit. Then I started wheezing, and I knew we couldn't keep her. M was devastated. I was devastated. But I knew that day at M's grandma's how things were going to play out, and unfortunately they did.

We were upset for awhile, but we soon figured out that a lot of what we were going through was our displaced want and need for a child. We started on the fertility train, but guess what? I was allergic to the IVF shots. We had to discontinue the cycle, and I was scheduled to go to an allergist to be tested with the bazillion meds you need to take in an IVF cycle.

Then I got pregnant. You know, the old-fashioned and fun way.

My son is a miracle. And honestly, because of him, I don't think much about the dog anymore. But yesterday, I was talking to my brother, who used to work with the guy who we gave Oreo to. Apparently, someone tried to break into the house, and the dog attacked them. They found a broken window and blood and flesh on the ground.

Now, that's all well and good, but I have a one-year-old who's into everything. I adore animals, but seriously, if that had happened on my watch, I would be afraid for the Boo. So things work out the way they are supposed to. Still, Oreo was a good girl.

Apparently, there is air

According to the allergist, my breathing is normal. I took a breathing test where you blow as hard as you can into a tube and they measure your output, which causes you to wheeze. It scared the crap out of my son, because he started screaming. Poor guy. Mommy's OK. Thank goodness.

How am I supposed to breathe with no air?

I bitch about this every year, but my allergies are killing me. I'm finally seeing the allergist today, after trying to get an appointment since April. Yikes. Apparently a lot of people are suffering. It's probably Pulmicort time!

It only hurts when I breathe

Holy crap, this pollen is killing me. My throat feels like sandpaper, and despite two coffees, all I want to do is crawl under my desk and sleep. Note to self: Make allergist appointment. Damn.

Rainy Monday

Today was one of my two days off a week. I did a lot of housework, and then Boo and I were both getting restless with the disgusting (but much needed) rain keeping us cooped up, so we went over to the mall. Since shopping for clothes is still a nightmare I'd rather avoid, I splurged on a sweet new purse at Macy's. I am a purse whore, although I can't be bothered with name brands -- I spend the money but go for nice and a bit more obscure of a name.

I did some leaf blowing in my yard this weekend, and after the sneezing and wheezing that commenced, I have decided I am not doing any more of that sort of work. Also, after several days of a swollen, gross-looking eye, I got it checked and discovered I have allergic conjunctivitis. I'm sure the leaves, dirt and mold flying around my yard didn't help.

Back to work tomorrow...

You raise me up

Since it's hardcore allergy season, my allergist wrote me a scrip for Pulmicort, an inhaled steroid. Using my inhaler always makes me giggle a bit, because the inhaler is rather, umm, phallic in nature. Yes, I have a dirty mind.

Anyway, steroids being what they are, I've discovered that using my inhaler before bed is not the smartest course of action. For the past few nights, I've woken up in the middle of the night, heart racing, fully awake. Steroids are notorious for making people hyper. Maybe I should have thought of that.

On an upbeat note: I can breathe.

HNT: How I keep my lungs open

With allergy season well underway, as usual I am feeling the ill effects: postnasal drip, headaches and wheeziness. It's worst in the morning when I've been laying flat all night. So I've taken to singing in the shower at roof-rattling volume to open up my sleepy lungs. Here's the current rotation of cheesy '80s songs:

• We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off by Jermaine Stewart (well, actually, you do if you want to take a shower)
• I Always Feel Like (Somebody's Watching Me) by Rockwell (would be a bit creepy if it were in the shower)
• Causing a Commotion by Madonna (sing it with me: I got the moves, bay-bee, you got the motion...)

American Idol, look out!

Let's get unconscious, honey

I've been having an allergic situation that requires me to take some hardcore Benadryl every night. M says he can see the moment when it kicks in -- I just start fading away. On the plus side, I've been sleeping like a log. On the minus side, like a log, it's hard to roll me over in the morning. I cannot get out of bed. I just can't. It's not like the usual kick myself in the ass 10 times and then I can get up. (To say I am not a morning person is an understatement.) It's next to impossible. I am enjoying the deep sleep, but not the hangover. Just needed to vent.

Link-o-rama

A Saab goes 1 million miles. And I thought we kept my 1983 Ford Fairmont too long (through 99...)

An allergy-free kitty. Now if they could only make a hypoallergenic chocolate Lab...sigh.

I am so bored.

My boss and her boss are overseas at a trade show, and my co-worker, who usually keeps me occupied during the day, is on her honeymoon. Even our admin has the day off. I took Tuesday as a mental health/feeling like shit due to allergies day. Man, they are baaad news this year. Everyone I know that has them (including me) is exhausted, with the white pasty face and big black allergic shiners under their eyes. For anyone interested in the science behind allergic shiners, they are caused when there is increased blood flow to the sinuses. The skin around the eyes is very thin and see-through, so you can see this better. My breathing seems ok, but no drug seems to work for me for my upper respiratory allergies. I've tried:

• Claritin (now available over the counter): Makes me sleepy
  
• Zyrtec (prescribed by my allergist) Knocked me out so cold that M had to physically shake me awake in the morning when I took it at bedtime.
  
• Allegra is useless.
  
• Alavert is the same thing as Clartin, according to my pharmacist.
  

So I take 10 mg of Singulair at bedtime, which is supposed to control allergies as well as asthma. Works well for the asthma — peak flow is pretty normal — but allergies, fuggetaboutit. When things get bad, I take Sudafed. It makes my heart race and ups my blood pressure, but at least I can breathe.

ALLERGIES SUCK!

M calls my assortment of vitamins and prescription meds "the stuff of an 82-year-old woman, not a 30-year-old." Half of the vitamins I take are because we are trying to conceive. I want a baby. And yet sometimes I don't. I look at children with a longing eye, and now that I've been married two years and have a three-bedroom house with a big yard, it's natural that we try to have a kid. At the same time, I like being able to come and go as we please. I like having money in my wallet. I like my job, and it's undecided as to whether I would come back to work after having a baby. The changes to my relationship with M scare me, too. He is anxious to have a child — I almost want to say to him, YOU carry it.

Gotta get some work done. Wake me when today's over.

PS Did I mention I can't breathe? I am fucking sick of allergies. I want a cure!

A Poem for a Cold January Tuesday
In the darkness of the morning
The cold fingers of trees stretch against the blue-black
As my head wakes from nothing
And I can breathe, I can breathe
I wish so for flowers and warmth
For short sleeves and open windows
For walks in the sunshine
But I can breathe, I can breathe

I'm on a roll today -- so excited by this idea of a forum for my thoughts (which are many throughout the day).

Been thinking about this John Geoghan thing -- it was out by us in Shirley, after all. I really think the Lord works in mysterious ways. I also think the guards looked the other way. The sensitive side of me feels for his family. But while I consider myself a good Catholic, I do know that the priest abuse scandal has hit churches across Massachusetts, including the church I got married in, and it all started with Geoghan. Now no one will let him out. He has God to contend with.

I'm just getting over a 12-day burst of Predisone (a steroid) for a severe case of poison ivy. I worry about what it did to my body. Yes, I worry too much. I hate all of my allergies. They mean I can't have a furry pet. I've got to keep my house super clean because I'm allergic to dust and mold (so is M, to a certain extent). Spring makes me miserable, and I can't go in flower stores. I tried allergy shots. They gave me asthma. My new allergist has me on Singulair and some herbs, including stinging nettle and fish oil. I feel good, and my peak flow is normal. Still, I worry.