I'm ridiculously over attached to my best friend. My dependable, there for me, ready in pinch, always got my back, never out of reach best friend.
I think I used to be more normal (though my Lakota brother may disagree with that one). Not so long ago my best friend was human. I haven't gone completely around the materialist bend, at least it's not diamonds that are this girl’s best friend.
I never, ever leave home without my best friend. Not for a walk, not for a quick trip to the store, not to go to a meeting, not for anything. Ever. Er..except today.
Today is not a good day to die, but I carelessly, friendlessly, sauntered in that direction.
First mistake, leaving home without my best friend, the Activeaide bag (2 Epi-pens, Benadryl, Gloves, Zantac).
Second mistake, deciding being on time was more important than being safe. Fortunately I had backup Zantac and Benadryl in my work bag --put some in my back pocket and headed out to a work luncheon (where I was not eating, of course).
Third mistake, not making a graceful exit when I saw the corn on the cob being served. I thought, “Outdoor venue, no problem I’ll just stay far away.”
Fourth Mistake...that's enough. Suffice it to say I earned another stripe on the horrible warning badge today, took Benadryl with no backup and hoped for the best. I’ve only had fumes from cooking corn require an Epi-pen once, today was not to be the second time time. After it was over, I zoomed home to grab the purse with my Activeaide bag.
I generally have to laugh at the foolish mistakes I make, since in the grand scheme of things my problems are rather minor and manageable. But, even with a large dose of perspective, there are still moments where I scare myself.
Driving back to the office after picking up everything I needed to keep breathing in case of an anaphylactic reaction, I attempted to drown out the internal chorus of "Fool!" by cranking the CD to window rattling volume. Instead of helping, hearing Tod A. growl out "This is no joke, this is my life," loosed the last reserves holding back the fear. Springing out, all the worse for having been compressed, the consequences I had managed not to think about found physical expression in shaking hands and blurred eyes. Trying to cope at 60 miles an hour, I sang along with Tod through chattering teeth till the adrenaline wore off.
I'm still learning to manage this allergy on my own. Odds are, I'm going to screw up. Such is life. I'm lucky to be able to live and learn. After I post this I'm putting my backup Epi-pens in my work bag along with the extra stage one meds. Lesson learned, better preparedness in the future.
Then I'm cranking up the rest of the my new music* and dancing around the house till I can't remember what fear feels like.
*(Thanks for the all the music Jed, it’s 100% corn free and fantastic!)