Attack Of The Histamines

I’ve got to tell you about this run in I had with a needle the other day, and the devastating problems I encountered because of that little prick. I thought for sure I was going to die.

Let me take that back. I wanted to die. No, not really. I just wanted it all to end. It was terrible. It was like nothing I’ve ever gone through this time of year. Spring and summer, yes. Even early fall, depending on what part of the country I’m living in at the time. But, never this time of year.

Tuesday I received a flu shot. Because of the current pandemic, and where I’m currently living, I thought it might be wise to break down and allow a trained professional to jab me with a sharp object. I even allowed her to shoot me up with the high dose crap for people of a certain age. I’d say she did a pretty good job. She didn’t hurt me, but the damned vaccine did. It was like fire being shot into my upper arm.

When I mentioned the pain the young nurse said, “That’s because it’s cold. We have to keep it refrigerated.”

Now, why in the hell didn’t she tell me I was going to be injected with a popsicle cocktail? If I would have known it was cold, I could have attempted to warm it up a bit before becoming acquainted with its non-heated properties. Been there, done that. Didn’t want to do it again.

Many years ago I was injected with a very cold antibiotic. Right in the ass. If that doesn’t wake you up in the morning, nothing will. I made myself a promise that I would not let that occur again. Ever. It seems I went back on my promise to myself. How should I make it up to  the ever lovable me?

I know. I’ll give myself the day off. I’ll sit around, drink coffee, and make a valiant attempt to finish this Michael Connelly book I’m reading. Providing, of course, a couple of naps don’t interfere with the plans I have laid out for myself.

Oh, wait. Don’t go. I haven’t told you about the invasion of the Histamines. Those ruthless little bastards attacked without warning. Usually I get a glimpse of their combat flags, those beautiful flower blooms everyone goes ga-ga about every spring. That’s right. I’ve learned to live with seasonal allergies and I’m always prepared. Apparently, I wasn’t this time. But, in my defense, those little guys attacked from my left flank (that’s the arm I had my shot in), and I was unprepared for what they brought to the fight. No flags, no warning whatsoever. Just—bam, and they were on me like a family of fleas on a hound dog’s ass.

I received said vaccination about 2:00. Around six or seven I began to feel slightly disoriented and a mild sinus headache came on suddenly. I didn’t associate those symptoms with an allergic reaction until about an hour later when my sinus cavities began to become impassable to the air I was trying to suck into my lungs.

Thinking about what might cause such a reaction, one I was quite familiar with due to some of the plants whose pollen my body is not fond of, my focus settled on the Christmas cactus. They’re in bloom. And have been for a couple of weeks. Nope. Not those guys.

Then it hit me. That damned influenza shot I had received earlier in the day. Okay, my body believed it was being attacked through the air by an irritant (influenza is airborne, isn’t it?), and it was going to put a stop to that immediately. My head was stuffed, my eyes were slightly swollen, and then I began to sneeze. Great. Just what I needed. I thought I’d just ignore everything and go to bed. It was a little earlier than usual, but I thought I could probably use a little extra rest. I needed the rest in preparation for the coming fight.

I didn’t get that rest I longed for. No, I spent a good portion of the night sneezing and gasping for air. Usually when I sit up I can alleviate some of the problem, but not that night. I knew if I took an allergy tablet I’d be awake all night and I didn’t want that. (Thinking back on the logic I used on myself I was probably under the influence of a mind altering substance—like a few trillion histamines attacking my body at one time.) As though the lack of air in my lungs and the unprovoked sneezing attacks weren’t enough.

I kept thinking that I wished I had some NyQuil. That particular medication would have gone a long way towards helping me achieve a night of peaceful sleep. But, alas, I slept alone. Well, not entirely alone. I had more histamines than I could realistically handle keeping me company.

Early the next morning, and I mean early—before sunrise early, I sneezed myself out of bed and tiptoed around the discarded Kleenex in the floor and stumbled to the medicine cabinet for relief. An allergy tablet with my morning coffee, and I’d be awake for hours. But that was okay. It was time to start the day, even if it was still dark outside.

I opened the cabinet and reached for the box of allergy tablets. Hiding behind that ever present box of allergy relief, there in the back, sat a box of tablets I could have used—an unopened box of DayQuil/NyQuil, four doses of each. If only I had known.

Good night, Mrs. Jackson, wherever you are.