I need to see a doctor - NOW!!!

After getting off the phone with my father I had to remain calm and maintain some sort of civilized behaviour while waiting a few minutes for him to arrive along with my mother and some Benadryl. I remember nervously pacing around my SUV on the moderately busy side street. What seemed to be quite a long time passed, so I called my dad's cell phone to see where the heck they were. He told me he was right around the corner and that only a few minutes had gone by since we last spoke. So much for my maintaining perspective!

Just before their arrival I came to the conclusion that this "attack" was worse than any other I had experienced in the past. My reaction to that was a thought that Benadryl likely wouldn't be enough to stop it. It turns out I was right.

When my parents finally arrived (I know, it took little time but despite my efforts to remain calm, each minute that passed started stretching out more and more and more) I effectively ordered them to abandon my vehicle where it was and to drive me a couple of blocks to the nearby medical clinic. We quickly arrived and I barged through the line (it was pretty busy for 6pm on a weekday, or so I thought!) and immediately told the nurse who was dealing with another patient that I needed to see a doctor and I needed to see him or her now.

They didn't even ask me to remove my shoes!! Into a room I was whisked, I saw the nurse go into another examination room to fetch a doctor. I was put on oxygen, told to swallow some pills and was given a shot of epinephrine. They asked me some questions and informed me that this time I wasn't going to walk out (as I had done once or twice before with the simple advice of taking a few days' worth of Benadryl and I'd be fine.) An ambulance was on its way, but it would take some time because a pedestrian had been hit by a dump truck and the "local" paramedics were tied up. My bus (as they call it on Law and Order!) was coming from the Bank and Walkley area - clear across town! The fire department first arrived on scene... those in the waiting room sure got more than they bargained for that night!!

By the time the ambulance arrived the medical staff at the clinic had stabilized me. Apparently out of danger, I was now able to relax a bit and enjoy a live episode of "Rescue 911" with me as the star. OK, most of you won't remember the show but I think William Shatner hosted a "COPS"-like show back in the 90's that followed paramedics around. The paramedics put me on a stretcher and wheeled me out to the waiting ambulance. Once secured inside, a fairly young attendant was told that this would be his first opportunity to put one of those IV hookup things in while in a moving vehicle. Great, here I was going to become some student's pin cushion!

Off we headed to the Civic Hospital - the IV hookup went smoothly (maybe the drugs and oxygen made me less babyish than I can be around needles!) and I was disappointed when we cruised up Greenbank towards the 417 with no lights or siren. My one time in an ambulance (for which I was later billed) and I don't get the "full monty" and had to settle for quietly weaving through traffic while observing all Highway Traffic Act laws. Oh well.

Within minutes we were at the hospital and this episode would soon be over.

"THE BIG ONE"

Two more tests and no more information. I was advised to continue avoiding shellfish at all costs, so I did. A few more years passed with no further incidents. While I vigilently maintained a heightened state of alertness when it came to staying away from the evil fish that could cause trouble, I did get cocky one time while visiting the north-eastern corner of New Brunswick.

My friend had ordered "clam strips" - to this day I'm not exactly sure what they are but they looked similar to french fries. I guess those who made these little delicacies would slice off little strips of clam meat (sorry - I truly have no clue what the stuff inside a clam looks like so I'm quite certain that I'm botching the description!) and would bread them. Throw them into a deep fryer and voila! Clam strips.

On day two of the trip I asked for a little one. No reaction. A few days later, I had a bigger one. On the last day of the trip, I stole the biggest one I could see. Still no reaction. Could I be cured!? Fat chance.

Fast forward another year or three and that's where the proverbial crap hit the fan. I was at a client's home. They're Italian, and just like in the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding my negative response to the question as to whether I'd like something to eat or not was met with a plate of spaghetti with alfredo sauce. Off my guard, I had some and ate it quite happily since it was getting close to supper time anyway. For the first time in my life I also helped myself to some dry peppers - the ones you see in big shakers with big holes at some restaurants. I never had those before and had a curious sensation as I chowed down.

I didn't question the curious sensation at the back of my throat because my future wife and a good friend of mine had been trying to convince me that they didn't like "spicy" or "hot" foods because they didn't agree with them. Not understanding, I always dismissed them as wimps and enjoyed moderately spicy or hot foods by myself. More for me!! This time, my mind reasoned with me, I have met my match. These little dried peppers packed quite a punch.

Once my plate was cleaned, I was offered more. Given that I rather liked this new spaghetti with alfredo sauce, I agreed to a second helping, only no peppers this time. Once that was done, I was starting to feel "a little off" (hmmm... should have picked up on that considering my past experience) and excused myself. I wandered over to the bathroom and drank a good quantity of water and just stood there staring at the mirror.

We wrapped things up and I was soon jumping into my SUV. Before backing out of the driveway, I remember thinking how rotten I was now feeling. Being the bright lad I was that day, I didn't think much of it and put the truck into drive as I began my trip home, planning on getting some gasoline on the way. I made it up the road a few hundred feet and I had to bail out. I headed over to the snow bank and proceeded to throw up the supper I just ate. Still theoretically a growing boy, I figured that this episode was over and oddly thought to myself that I just made room for another supper. Bonus!

Feeling relieved and, I guess, eagerly anticipating another dinner, I headed west. Home was only 5km away. Slowly I became aware of a tingly scalp. I got annoyed but pushed my way up the road. My good nature was being sapped as I progessively started feeling worse. I got close to the gas station and despite the fact I had but a few precious litres of fuel left in the tank, I wrote off the idea of gassing up and proceeded straight home. A block further up the road the lights went on and I realized with horror I was experiencing an allergic reaction unlike any other I had experienced.

I pulled over to the side of the road and called my parents, ordering them to come to me with Benadryl on the double. I could not drive any further. Allergic reaction aside, what would become an interesting mental journey began at that moment.