In Which I Hide

I'm guest posting today over at Lana's place, Mother Hides The Pearls. I had yet another awesome experience at the laundromat recently, which I, of course, just had to share because these things seem to only happen to me. Head on over there to read all about it.

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I finally got to see an allergist yesterday. I was looking forward to this appointment, in hopes that I'd finally get some idea as to what exactly is going on, so I can return to my apartment and try to get my life back to normal.

After taking some time to explain the whole ordeal to the doctor, and giving him the two calendar pages I had printed out that charted the onset and progression of everything, he agreed that I should be tested to see what I'm allergic to. In preparation for this appointment, on Tuesday this week I stopped taking all the antihistamines and the steroids, so I wouldn't get false-positive results at the allergists office.

And so came the prick test. I took my shirt off and sat still while the doctors assistant slathered my arms in alcohol. While she marked my arms with a pen, I eyed the tray of needles. There were six brackets of needles, each with four or five needles attached to them. When the time came, she rolled the needles up my arm in a rocking motion, which exposed the needle and jabbed a small dose of various allergens under my skin.

"Sit tight," she said, and left the room for 15 minutes.

As it would turn out, I would not react to any of the allergens on this test. The assistant carefully examined my arms before leaving the room again, and came back with another tray. This tray was full of tiny glass bottles, and next to the bottles was a large pile of syringes. She swabbed my arm with alcohol again, and got right down to business.

I watched as she pulled into each syringe a small amount of the liquid from each of the glass bottles, and deduced that this test was the same as the first test, just with a higher dose of the allergen. This test was considerably more painful than the first, if only for the number of times I had to get jabbed with a needle than for the actual pain each one caused.

27 syringes later...

"Sit tight," she said again, and left the room for another 15 minutes.

As it would turn out, again, I would still not be allergic to anything in the test. Not even dogs.

What the fuck.

I got all cleaned up and put my shirt back on, and discussed the results with the allergist once he came back into the exam room. He told me that 1 in 5 people have reactions similar to mine at random points in their lives, and the symptoms disappear before anyone can figure out the cause. He does think I have an interesting case still, with there being no rhyme or reason for the onset and progression of my symptoms, and also that I have other symptoms like joint pain. He ordered some lab work, and I have a follow-up appointment with him in a little over two weeks.

To say I was unsatisfied with the appointment would be putting it mildly.

I'm not confident that the results from the allergen test were accurate. I had only been off of the antihistamines and steroids for a little over 2 days before the test, so I'm not sure if there would have been any residual traces of the medications in my system still or not. In my mind, knowing how my symptoms got worse while I was around the dog we had adopted, and improved when I was away from the dog... Well, that seems pretty cut and dry to me.

I'm scheduled to see another (more highly reputable) allergist early next month. This doctor has been called the Dr House of allergies, so I'm hoping he can shed some more light on the situation. I'm going to remain off of the medications until I can see him, and I've been cleared to return to my apartment by early next week.

I'm going to try to remain off work until I see the other allergist, but we'll see how that goes. As always, I'll do my best to keep you all updated on the situation.

Hope you all have a great weekend!