Ah-Choo!

Year after year I have escaped unscathed from the maladies of the histamine sensitive. This year, either the pollen levels are extremely potent or my immunity has broken down because I have been besieged by sneezing episodes every morning and my eyes dry up so bad that by late afternoon my contacts are ready to pop out.

So then I have discovered that the perfection of spring with its fresh foliage and lavish blooms in bright colors and scents has its downside: pollen. My friends taught me to monitor the pollen levels daily on weather.com to find out to which pollen I was most sensitive to. I had a clue and confirmed after a week of checking online – of course it is grass!

When I was still Manila-based I had major allergy attacks whenever the wild grass locally called talahib bloomed, ripened and when its pollen were airborne. Matter of fact, whenever I traveled around the country, I was a radar to any talahib growth. If there was talahib within a certain radius I’ve begin wheezing and then depending on how dense the growth is either have a mild asthma attack or in worst case situations – suffer with swollen eyes and an itchy rash (on the inner fold of my arms and behind my knees the spots being most vulnerable).

Fortunately, my symptoms are quite mild. I manage with the 5 blister packs of Claritin I had brought back from Manila, which I believe is a more potent concoction than what is sold in NY locally (even that of the same brand). My other friends are not as lucky. My friend Vani was so sick from her allergies last year that she suffered a mild stroke from the stress of coping with it. Thank goodness that she had recovered well from it, only because her husband had the presence of mind to rush her to hospital when her symptoms didn’t improve.

When I was in high school suffering through one of my bouts of really bad asthma attacks, a guy brought me flowers. In the middle of his bouquet was a stalk of a talahib in full bloom. I guess he found this hilarious. I found it despicable and mean. Suffice to say, his feat didn’t earn him anything but this single memory of his twisted sense of humor.