Nurse the Hate: Hate Allergies

I just recently became allergic to something that blooms here in NE Ohio around this time of year. A few years ago it hit me out of the blue. I thought I was getting a monster cold, but when I noticed no fever, etc., I knew I had developed allergies. I had always thought of allergies as psychosomatic. For example, didn’t every only child with an over protective mother suffer from allergies when you were a kid? Early in the school year Mom would usher into a diatribe about her special son’s unique conditions to the teacher while we all uncomfortably looked on. “Billy can’t go play kickball because he’s allergic to grass. Oh, and don’t give him any peanuts or shellfish! The boy blows up like a balloon! Also, don’t let him near magic markers. It causes a rash on him!” Meanwhile the kid would be looking up at his mother lovingly, a special little victim getting the special attention that he so richly deserved…

That little pussy from second grade morphed into the little nark in high school and then into the drama queen adult. It is an easy transition from being the boy getting one-on-one time with the teacher in the classroom during recess right into the adult that is an emotional lamprey. Let’s all rally around our little trooper! Let me brush your hair while you tell me about your little problems. Put on that diaper, and go all the way my pretty little baby. The child learns that they get attention and nurturing if they play up infirmities. How do you think that will play out as they age?

What great weather we had on Sunday! How was your weekend Denise? “Well… not so good… My allergies kicked in so I couldn’t go to the family picnic. My husband Roy made me a plate of food for me, and brought it to me in bed. I had to stay there all day, because of a migraine. I had all the curtains drawn shut so I didn’t even know what the weather was at all. I spoke to the doctor, and he said blah blah blah blah blah…” Notice me please! I am in crisis! Hear me!

I have so little compassion for that. I was raised to go to work/school even if you were bleeding out of your eyes. When you complained about it, you were weak. Yet, I have to admit, whatever allergy I just developed thoroughly kicked my ass this weekend. I sniffled my way though Saturday, but then Sunday it was like a grenade went off in my skull. That’s when I went to the Benadryl…

I don’t know what is in Benadryl, but it whacks me out. I have been staggering across a city crosswalk in a Viking outfit with a gallon of vodka in me and felt more together than I did yesterday. I feel like those old drawings of opium dens where old Chinese men in Fu Manchu mustaches lay in bunks and smoke long pipes. Whatever is going to happen, can happen. I will just lay here and let it wash over me. What? The house is on fire? Hey man, someone will put it out. I will just wait here. It’ll all be just fine. Nighty night.

When I woke up this morning, that same grenade had been shoved up my skull and detonated. I chased the dragon. That’s right. I took two Benadryl and let the morning come to me. While everyone else was stressed out about their morning commute, I just floated on in. I think I was driving about 4 mph. It might have been 142 mph. I’m not really sure. It just sorta happened. Kind of like this writing is happening now. Someone else is typing the keyboard, and I’m thinking about H.R. Puffenstuff and how much I miss seeing Mayor McCheese hand out cheeseburgers to good little girls and boys. It’s gonna be a groovy morning. While I now have to re-think my stance on my psychosomatic allergy position, I did learn of the wonders of Benadryl. This allergy thing hasn’t been a total loss. I think I’ll go get in my car and drive around.