Allergic

My grandma Virginia told my sister and me when we were young not to marry farmers when we grew up. She hadn't intended to marry one, but my grandpa was just too good to pass up, so her life was spent on a farm in Northwest Kansas.

My sister and I heeded Grandma's advice, and married men that moved us to the city. As it turns out, however, I seem to be allergic to the city.

My Spring allergies that I have already whined about once flared up 3 weeks ago, and this year's allergies were worse than ever. It started with a walk one night after work, and ended with me going through approximately 759 kleenexes, coughing through the night and avoiding the outdoors at all costs for 2 weeks. Realizing that my misery is becoming exponentially worse each year, I made an appointment with an allergy specialist for a "scratch test," in which a variety of common allergens were injected into my back. They tested me for about 50 allergens, and I had allergic reactions to 32 of them. I had reactions to all trees, grass, and weeds, as well as some mold. I am not, however, allergic to any pet dander or dust, so Brinkley gets to stay.

The results of the test told me that my grandma was wrong: I was meant to live happily ever after on a farm in Northwest Kansas where there are far more animals than trees, and where mowing the lawn produces more dust than grass clippings.

On a side note, I informed my doctor that while I am not directly allergic to my dog, she likely does drag lots of allergens in the house from the outdoors. He suggested vacuuming her when she comes inside, which I tried that night. I don't think I actually sucked any pollen from her fur chasing her around with our hand vac, but it was the most I had laughed since my allergy misery started a week and a half prior, so it did serve a purpose. I think I'll put that in the same category of entertainment as watching her chase the light from a flashlight around a room.