Experiencing anaphylactic shock from an allergy is awful. The feeling of near, impending disaster. The danger signals firing alarm bells in my head as the world seems to go dark in waves. Then the fainting, heavy feeling that going down is the next thing about to happen. And suddenly, I make a phone call that is not 911 but to my husband. “I feel awful.” And I need a calm life coach to get me to the next step.

Only a person who lives with an epinephrine pen knows what I am going through. Experiencing the awful feeling that something is so wrong inside oneself is hard. The fog in thinking is like draining my thoughts away. I am not even sure what is next or what is around me. Knowing where my EPI pen is or my inhaler, or my Benadryl. I did find then all but just wasn’t sure about doing my own shot of adrenalin booster.

I was able to yell in my brain, “YOU JUST HAVE TO DO THIS!” And I did make myself sit up to swing the pen into my right thigh. It worked enough to start the coughing and keep my throat open until the ER. It was a close call. Riding in the car, I kept feeling the fainting nearby and thought just how terrible it would be to leave my family right now.

I went through all of my motions prior to and the only thing is perhaps the brand name Fig Newtons were tainted with barley. Or the dog’s treat that I gave him had barley and I did not get my fingers washed good enough. The next day I found the three bags of dog treats that I set aside have barley, or peanut butter in them. I will have to give those away to somebody’s dog that I don’t visit.

The ER doctor put me on a pretty high dose of steroid for a couple of days until the ingested item is out of my gut completely. I can’t believe how my glands are still pretty swollen today. There is some vertigo from my ears being pressed on by the glands there. So much stress on the body and so much stress from other sources.

The following Monday happened to be my annual physical day and yes, my family physician did give me a slap on the wrist! Next time the allergy response happens, I may not have as much time. It took one hour and fifteen minutes from the moment of ingestion until the IV steroid. Next time (if there is and when there is) my reaction must be swift, first the shot, them the Benadryl and then 911. Someone else will have notify my emergency person.

Taking on the burdens of other people can lead to stress overload. There’s a weight which so easily entangles us in the affairs of other people. Casting our cares at the feet of the Savior soon becomes the only way that we can cope with the heavy loads. I am turned back to the week with my father and how we talked about fishing or hunting, or Jesus. I would ask what kind of story, And as his body became more tired, he would simply say ‘You choose” with the biggest grin and squeeze my hand. I knew that he knew I would choose a “Jesus” story. So today the Jesus words I pick for my life and those who grow weary with the burdens of decision making that we all have comes from the Gospel according to Matthew.

Matthew 11:28 “Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. “.

Of course, I am delayed on posting this journal entry. That is often the case as life happens faster than we can recall it at times. My dad passed away just the day after my ER visit. My brother also spending time in the urgent care to get a piece of metal out of a fingernail. Everyone else seemed to escape challenges until after the funeral. Then my other brother had kitchen plumbing disaster. My baby sister put up with a crying infant for the whole 17 hour car ride home. Life is not all frosting and birthday cakes.

The last few days have been solemn, sacred, special memories as we said “goodbye” to another earthly mortal. Grasping the life lessons that an individual has to teach us is so key. Having a positive, humorous attitude in the face of life’s sufferings, my dad used each opportunity that he had to help people find laughter in the midst of the situation. Even when it “hurts” to laugh, it is still the best medicine.

Note this close call: eating luncheon at the memorial service is a bit scary for me. I have to trust there is no hidden ingredient in the items set before me. Then while holding my granddaughter eating her potato chip, suddenly my daughter across the table says “stop, stop, mom!” The little dolls potato chipped fingers decided to eat the macaroni salad and my fork was holding a noodle that she had just swiped across before picking up her pepperoni pice. Close call, as I am also so allergic to potato it would have messed up everyone’s day if I got hauled off to the ER. Someone rescued the little body off my lap and took the plate away with her. I received another plate of salads and we made it through the day unscathed.