One in a Million…. and not in a Good Way

Jan 28, 2012

The pollen alert today (Friday) was ridiculous. Only Southern California could have a weather alert for high pollen warning.

I never had allergies in my childhood. We lived in the Midwest, fought mosquitoes in the summer, sled on frozen rivers in the winter, and enjoyed cherry blossoms in the spring.

Then we moved to the desert. The forsaken, empty, barren desert. You’ve heard this story before. Okay, it’s not that forsaken. It’s growing. And we have several Starbucks, so we must be okay on someone’s map.

Our winters are different. We get a light dusting of snow (if we’re lucky). A few rainstorms (if we’re really lucky). And all the dead leaves from the fall get blown away with the Santa Ana winds.

This year we haven’t seen the snow or much rain yet. But the Santa Anas are back in force. And that means dirt and dust and dried up leaves and anything else that wishes it had wings, does. Even the tiny pollen.

Did I mention I never had allergies? Yup. That’s right: past tense. Because ever since I’ve lived in the desert, guess what: Spring hates me. Sad. Sad. Sad.

But that’s okay. I’m one in a million. Literally. Because I am the only person I know who is verifiably allergic to prescription allergy medications.

True story.

Can’t breathe? Too bad! Eyes running like the Nile? Invest in Kleenex. Stuffy nose? Yeah… the whole mouth-breathing thing is not attractive, but it works. Headache? Well at least for that I can take an ibuprofen.

But an allergy pill? No way. Not this body. They do weird things to me. Allegra. Claritin. I forget what other brands I’ve tried.

But after my fourth yearly trip to the E.R., the doctors finally figured out that I’m just one of those lucky people who can’t take allergy medication. They give me heart palpitations. They make me dehydrated. Irritable. Incoherent.

And in one case, caused me to pass out.

In public.

At the Courthouse, no less.

Yeah. That was a fun one.

It was about ten years ago. I was a legal secretary and had to file papers with the Court. I walked across the street after having taken my morning allergy pill. By the time I stood in line for five minutes I knew something was wrong. Thankfully, I recognized our Process Server. She later told me I asked her to call my boss before I went down. All I remember was being in and out of consciousness for over half an hour. I woke up in the E.R. with an oxygen mask and two IV’s.

Not scary at all…. right….

There was a lot of medical mumbo-jumbo about platelets and blood counts and Oh-Two and stuff I didn’t understand. But what I did understand was that I can’t take allergy pills again. Ever.

Now and then I conveniently forget. Now and then (about once a year) I get so miserable I figure an over-the-counter Claritin can’t be that bad. And now and then I puke my guts out. And then I remember.

Why am I telling you all this? Well first, I’m desperate for writing material because it’s midnight and I have to have a decent post up in five hours. (How’d I do?) Second, and I should hope this is fairly obvious, but the Santa Ana winds are a-blowing which means I’m a-sniffling and a-sneezing. Third, now that my sad story is out there for public consumption, I’m reminding myself ahead of time to not take any allergy pills this year.

No matter how miserable I get. No matter how stuffy or watery or scratchy or irritable I get. This, too, shall pass.

And I’ve made it my goal to not get in any accidents and not have any hospital visits this year. Hey. I’m almost through January. That’s pretty good in my calendar.

Now if I could just take a deep breath and relax…

And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!

Sweeten my tea and share:

Why I Don’t Go To Carnivals in October

Nov 4, 2011 | 5 comments

by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy

The first “storm” of the season is on its way to Southern California, bringing with it high winds and light snow. I’m hopeful (but not realistic) about seeing a flake or two this weekend. My trees are billowing as I write this, and about ready to drop their leaves.

I love this time of year: the time when the desert is a little more colorful, when people bundle in sweaters and scarfs, when the smell of fireplaces and warm cooking are almost everywhere.

And so are the traveling carnivals. You know what I’m talking about: those caravans of Big Rigs that take over the local mall parking lot for less than a week. The rusted colorful contraptions they set up when no one’s looking. It’s as though they sneak in at the dead of night and stay just long enough to play their creepy music. Then just as suddenly, they’re gone.

Every year they show up here at the end of October, and two things happen.

First, the wind blows harder and colder, forcing pedestrians to wrap their coats tighter as they scurry to and from the safety of their buildings or cars. Their eyes dart about to find what their hands don’t want to reach for unless they have to. Cold handles, flying papers. Anything the wind can play with.

Second, I always think of Ray Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes”. I read the book in junior high, the year my father passed away. I could relate to the absent father storyline. It was fresh pain. Being raised in the midwest the descriptive book and subsequent movie seemed to add to the already imaginative thoughts I carried: the atmosphere of falling leaves, the early nightfalls, and all the What If’s… The story both scared and delighted me, creating that sweaty nervousness that only a great page can.

To this day, I count it as one of my favorite stories. It must be. It still affects how I feel at the end of October.

The desert isn’t a colorful place. Grass yards are not the norm, and rainstorms are few and far between. And so today’s storm is teasing us, saying this is what could be. Very much like Mr. Dark tempting the boys.

The winds bring apprehension and suspense. Maybe tomorrow there will be the smell of rain. At night, perhaps a snowflake or two. Full of promise… or lies.

An autumn wind always makes me think Hitchcockian. What secrets blow with it? What will it take away when it leaves? The local carnival left today. I wonder if the storm drove it away, or is following the show.

And I can’t help but recite, as the sun sets and the leaves rustle in the howling winds…

“By the pricking of my thumb,
Something wicked this way comes.”
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!

Sweeten my tea and share: