So, my recent battle with hives prompted me to see an allergist. My last visit with an allergist (which also happened to be my first visit with an allergist) definitely wasn't fun, as my wicked allergiesto cats, dogs and horses (and dust mites) were confirmed. This time around, I just wanted to get rid of the unpleasant hives. What the visit ended up doing, readers, is forever ensconce me in nerd-dom...because, seriously, a nerd who doesn't have over five allergies is not a nerd.
My allergies to cats, dogs, and horses (and dust mites), have now been joined by a severe allergy to mold, a host of spring allergies, and allergies to rats, cockroaches. If one should be allergic to anything, I suppose vermin is it. So is mold. But spring? I'm allergic to spring? This explains all of those lingering colds.
To make matters worse, my allergist suspects that I might have food allergies and chemical allergies (of course I have food and chemical allergies). I was sitting on the examining table, my legs dangling over the edge, my arms an alarming red from the combination of the hives and the skin test that the allergist had administered when she told me about the procedure for chemical allergy testing: she would have to apply two patches to my back, where the patches would remain for two days, during which time I can't get my back wet. It took a second for that information to register and all I could manage in response was: "Oh. Ew." This reaction made the allergist laugh for a good three minutes.
The moral of the story: I'm fucked, yo.