Ugh. I hate allergies and I have always been wary of allergy sufferers. Other than a brief time when my brother had a cow-milk allergy, nobody in my family were allergic to anything. Oh, other than cow-milk and poison ivy and aerosols in hair products. Other than that, we were a household that could eat food with any spice, any nut, any amount of lactose. Strong stomachs and hive free.
While you grow out of some allergies (my brother wasn’t tied to goat milk past 12 years old or so), you also seem to grow into them. In the last couple years, I’ve noted some sniffling when the seasons change. Could these be allergies?
Two years ago I raced to the doctor, only to realize the hives on my arms were an allergic reaction to the sizing on my new wool sweater. And later that winter a scarf and hat did the same thing. Drat. Another allergy.
A year ago, after a birthday lunch at work, I was bedridden for two days with the worst head cold I’d had in years. The culprit? Indian Food. When you have an indian meal, you have too many things to say you are allergic to one item. I’m not about to cross off an entire cuisine because of one headcold. Nope. But when it happened the second time I ate it and happened today, I think I might have to say no more indian food.
Grrr. My curry chicken pot pie was so good, but here I am–sniffling and feeling a bit off. It surely wasn’t the potatos or the chicken, but the curry simmering sauce. Again, too many spices for me to say for sure which one, but I have to add it to my list.
I now have three major character flaws, er, I mean allergies. Wool sizing, indian food, and the outdoors. Oh, and dairy products.
Did I mention I work in the ice cream biz?