I am BLOODY ITCHY. I have hives all over my back, tummy, arms, neck, cheeks and bum which make me want to tear my wretched skin off, toss it in the trash and just get on with my life without it. Sure I’d be slightly scary looking and fall prey to the nearest infection but right now ANYTHING WOULD BE BETTER THAN THIS FUCKING ITCH.
I know there are probably worse things but I am so god damn over being allergic to my world. I am histamine intolerant which megoracle translates to IRRITATING, sometimes DEBILITATING and very very BORING. You can look up the real meaning here if you’re interested but I don’t expect you to, as I said, it’s very boring and I’m not here today for the facts, I’m here for a big old fashioned whinge.
Every day of the year I have to take antihistamines and every day I have to restrict the food I eat to low histamine (read bland) foods. If I eat anything really tasty – cheese, wine, yeast, champagne, fish, tomato, chicken, vegemite, raspberries, citrus just to name a few – I itch like buggery, often break out in hives and sometimes swell up in the face, particularly lips and eyes. The first time I ever experienced the swollen face thing was 5 years ago on the morning of my friend’s wedding at which I was a bridesmaid. I walked up the aisle looking like someone had socked me in both eyes. I haven’t had a glass of wine since.
Then comes January which is the month I have extra issues because I get hayfever from dry grasses, which naturally increases my histamine levels further and renders me itchy regardless of how little histamine I get from food. So despite being extra extra careful and attending a heap of Christmas/New Year/Summer get togethers and sitting there with my lettuce in flat bread while everyone sips champers and raves about the prawns, I AM STILL FUCKING ITCHY. And itchy makes me angry. I am short tempered with the children, I have trouble concentrating, I am constantly tired due to itchy lack of sleep and I am frequently embarrassed by having to turn down food or ask for menu changes.
I have to eat differently to the rest of the family and when I’m busy I just can’t be arsed making anything. The food I can eat I am sick of anyway. I long for a vegemite sandwich and an aged steak like no one’s business. Don’t talk to me about champagne or I might cry.
I have cried a lot in the last week or so. This doesn’t help one bit, but it sometimes prompts someone in my family to stroke my skin, which I crave, or to help me get ice onto it, which kills the itch at least temporarily.
Tomorrow I am seeing another dermatologist. I have seen so many. I have tried UV treatments, a million oils, creams, lotions and soaks. I have tried herbal remedies and salt baths (fucking ouch) and total elimination diets. Nothing works but hardcore steroids, which I am loathe to take and only work fleetingly anyway.
I will be surprised if tomorrow’s appointment affords me anything new but every time I hope against hope that it will.
Perhaps I’ll try acupuncture next. Even if it doesn’t work I might get some relief from all those needles sticking it to the itch. Pain would be preferable at this juncture.
Anyway, that’s all. No funnies, no new learning, just misery-guts me being miserable. And what’s more, I have a bladder infection still, which proves that love doesn’t solve everything.
Hope you’re better than me.