\\ It started simply. I was born, I was born in the shadow of the main Exxon refinery in South Louisiana and was diagnosed with severe asthma. I don't remember a time when I wasn't getting inhalers and drugs. Eventually I outgrew it when I reached my teens. Just about the same time I started smoking marijuana at quantities more appropriate for a Rastafarian or your average Grateful Dead fan. How I made it through my studies I will never know, made pretty decent grades back then too. Which started a blissful 20 year stretch with no asthma. I thought I'd beaten the final boss. Won the gold ring. Got boinked on the head by the lucky flying pickle of fate. Right up until my last baby was a year old. Mr. Asthma came roaring back suddenly. I didn't get it, it seemed beyond understanding. I didn't smoke. I hadn't fooled with illicit drugs or the Devil's Lettuce in most of those years. Heck, I didn't drink more than the occasional glass of wine, or eggnog durin...
New irksome symptom. On Christmas Day several hours after having hosted friends and eaten dinner I sat here at my computer writing when suddenly the top of my entire head felt like it was on fire. Extremely hot and a level of itchy I'd never encountered before. Not even during my regular bouts of Shingles. It was very strange, passed only after I medded with the usual stuff very heavily. Later I read that it was a food allergy / mild anaphylaxis thing that can spiral into something more serious. My fucking body! I cooked foods I'd eaten for years. Why now?
Expect me to start with an idiotically silly meme each time! That's how I roll! As much of a pain in the rumpus mast cell is being able to laugh helps. You know I've had mastocytosis so many years now that I have how I handle it down to a science now. I hope talking about it helps someone else deal like a boss. In my home my master bedroom suite is set up in such a way as it is my refuge when it hits. The windows are hermetically sealed. The air conditioning has a HEPA filter. I have a secondary HEPA filter I turn on sometimes. The room has a sitting area, a large dressing room and the master bath. I hole up there when I'm sick and have no need to leave except for getting something to eat. The doctors here don't quite know what to do with me because none of them have ever treated any of the mast cell disorders. Head doctor at the clinic is my doctor, and she's always been open to ordering the things that have helped that aren't common in Costa Rica. She's...
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