Spring, Fall and... Cats? (How I Ended up with an EpiPen)

On top of having chemical allergies, I'm also allergic to nature...

I had my first test for environmental allergies when I was sixteen years old. I had been getting an absurd number of sinus infections, so my mother— no stranger to allergies herself—dragged me to an allergist and had him prick test me. While I wasn't a fan of the allergist (he was a close talker and kept pressing his junk into my knee) and the prick test itched like crazy, it was nice to know that my runny nose and itchy eyes had a cause.

After getting patch tested last summer, I decided that I should go visit an allergist again to see if another prick test would reveal any new information about additional food or environmental allergies. This time I loved the allergist I saw. She was friendly and incredibly knowledgeable, and unlike my most recent dermatologist, she took the time to talk with me and answer my questions. One of the first things I told her was that I thought I had an allergy to bananas because they have always made my throat itch. She smiled knowingly and said, "I bet you're allergic to ragweed."

I am allergic to ragweed. How did she gleam that from bananas?

Apparently there's this thing called oral allergy syndrome where the proteins in certain fruits and vegetables that have a chemical structure similar to the proteins in common environmental allergens can cause a contact reaction. Who knew that bananas were a cross-reactor to ragweed? I've told doctors in the past that bananas make my tongue itch and my throat swell up, yet none of them made the connection. This lady was on the ball!

Sorry Chiquita, you're no good for me!

So last fall, I went in prepared to have my skin poked at with itchy substances, yet my new favorite allergist informed me that a prick test wouldn't be necessary—she could determine my allergens through a blood test. Only one poke compared to dozens? Sign me up!

It took a few days to get the results, and the vampires down in the lab had to take several vials of my blood, but I was glad that the process didn't make me itchy. I've had enough of itchy over the past couple of years!

So how does a blood test work? Well apparently it detects antibodies to specific allergens. Through this process, my allergist was able to test me for food allergies as well. It turns out that I'm not actually allergic to bananas... so her suspicion of oral allergy syndrome was likely correct.

So what was I allergic to?

I had expected the test to come back positive for mold and dust mites, as I remember those being allergy triggers in my original test. However, I was negative for both of these. (Which would be nice if it means I've outgrown some of my allergens). I was also negative for all of the common food allergens that were tested for, including celiac disease. (Yay!)

I was positive for grass pollen and ragweed, which was really no surprise to me. My allergies always kick into high gear in the spring and fall—a common sign of grass and ragweed allergies.

What was a surprise to me however, was my positive reaction to cats.

...Cats?

How can I be allergic to cats? I want a second opinion!

Who could be allergic to this face?

I love cats. Ever since I was four years old and we got our first cat—aptly named Kitty Cat—I've been a bit of a cat fanatic.

Fanatic might be putting it mildly... Alright, I'll admit it. I'm a crazy cat lady.

...because sane people don't knit their cat sweaters.

Needless to say, I was a little distraught with the diagnosis. So I contacted my allergist to ask what this would mean for me and my four furry house guests. She assured me that my reaction to cats was a mild one—really more of an irritant—and that unless I developed problems, I could keep my furry friends.

Thank goodness! (I laughed at the idea of my cats being a "mild irritant." I couldn't have described them better myself.)

One of the things my allergist mentioned was that immunotherapy might be able to reduce some of my seasonal allergy symptoms. Traditionally, immunotherapy has been done through allergy shots, but I immediately ruled these out due to my dislike of being stabbed with needles. (I'd make a terrible heroin addict.)

However, it turns out that I hit the allergy jackpot because about two year ago the FDA approved the first sublingual immunotherapy tablets for ragweed and grass allergies—Ragwitek and Grastek, respectively. They're pretty cool, actually. Created by Merek, Ragwitek and Grastek are dissolvable tablets that contain active pollen. They are taken daily starting about 12 weeks before the kick-off of allergy season and continued until the season ends. They're not a pill—you don't swallow them. Instead, you simply put a tablet under your tongue and wait for it it dissolve for a minute or so. The idea is that by slowly introducing your body to small amounts of an allergen, it will help build up a tolerance and eventually desensitize your immune system towards that particular irritant.

Well, sign me up!

My allergist thought that I was a great candidate for this treatment, and although I missed the boat for Grastek this year, I was able to start my first dose of Ragwitek last week. I had to go into the doctor's office to take the first tablet, mainly because when you purposefully introduce a known allergen into your system, you are putting yourself at risk for anaphylaxis. This is rare, of course—oral itching and irritation are much more common side effects—but because it is a risk, I was prescribed an EpiPen.

There's a needle in that, right? I pray I never have to use it.

The first week has gone well. I love how simple it is: Pop the tablet out the packet, place it under your tongue, wait for it to dissolve before swallowing and then wait five minutes before eating or drinking. The hardest part has been the trying not to swallow bit.

So far I've noticed a bit of pressure in my ears and sinuses shortly after taking my dose. Nothing too extreme—certainly not as bad as my typical reaction to ragweed every fall. The hope is that this treatment will help to greatly reduce my seasonal allergies, and if that's the case then a little bit of sinus pressure is worth it. I'll let you all know how it goes.

As for my potential cat allergy, there's not much that can be done. Do you think it could be considered immunotherapy if I rub a cat on my face daily?

Seems to be working for me so far!

Isn't Gold Supposed to be Hypoallergenic?

I had a friend who use to get rashes from cheap jewelry, so I've always tended to lean towards necklaces and earrings labeled "hypoallergenic" or "nickel-free." When it comes to jewelry, nickel seems to be the most common allergen and many different metals contain some nickel content — even the lower quality golds.

I've been trying to buy nickel free jewelry for years — usually this meant purchasing items that were gold or sterling silver. But it turns out that nickel is a non-issue for me — at least at this point.

The most surprising thing about the results from my T.R.U.E test was the positive reaction to gold sodium thiosulfate, or gold salt.

Oh man, the gold patch burned! It flared up the worst and itched for months after the test.

The nurse who removed my patches said that she had never seen anyone react so strongly to something. Yet my dermatologist was completely unfazed. She told me that gold has a high rate of false positives, and it looks like there are studies out there that back that up.

But just because gold can show a false positive doesn't mean that it's always a false positive. If that were the case, there would be no point in including it on the test.

Research also shows that although an allergic contact reaction is more common to gold salt than it is to elemental gold or gold alloys, it is certainly possible for gold jewelry to cause dermatitis.

My grandmother was allergic to gold. Like, actually allergic to gold — not just the nickel content that is in many golds.

Which leads me to wonder... do allergies have a genetic component? Perhaps.

I haven't been wearing a whole lot of gold jewelry lately, but looking back I remember that my favorite necklace (which happened to be white gold) always left my neck a bit red where it would touch.

I don't know if gold will end up being a long term problem for me.... I'm actually hoping that my derm was right and that it was just a false positive. Once I've got my skin all cleared up I'd like to see if I can go back to wearing my wedding ring. I miss it.

But for now I've switched to a tungsten ring. Better safe than itchy, right?

Three Handy Ways to Carry Your Soap

When you're allergic to isothiazolinones, one of the hardest things to get use to is lugging around your own soap. 

I cannot tell you the number of times I forgot to bring my soap into the bathroom with me in the beginning. Even more frustrating than that were the times when I had my soap with me, but I let my guard down for a moment and muscle memory took over—forcing my hand to automatically reach for the soap pump and dispense poison onto myself.

Woops... that's going to itch later!

But since forgoing mystery hand soap is key to getting your skin back to normal, I've found three easy ways to carry my safe soap around the world (or simply around the corner) with me. 

1.     Soap flakes in a packet

This is actually the method I came up with first. At the time when I was diagnosed, I had fallen out of the habit of carrying my purse. No purse equals no good place to store soap, and so I went with this option as the little packet could easily fit into the pocket of my jeans. This would also be a good option for any men out there with this allergy, as they could slide the packet into their wallet.

• Step 1: Take a bar of safe soap and grate it up into a fine powder with a cheese grater. (I found that the finer the soap was, the easier it was to dissolve.)

• Step 2: Place the soap in a tiny zip lock baggie. (I had a ton of these lying around the house, as I had ordered several hundred of them off of Amazon several years ago to make my husband and I daily pill packets. They turned out to be the perfect size for soap.)

The trick to this method is getting the soap fine enough that it dissolves quickly. To use it, I sprinkle a little into my palm, add a few drop of warm water, and then rub my hands together until it gets to a soapy consistency. For me, a softer soap that melts fast works the best, but if you're planning on storing it in a warm space then it might be better to go with a harder bar that you can grate up into a powdery consistency. 

I’ve found that since these packets take up very little space, they are perfect for storing in a variety of places so that I'm never without soap. I have a packet in my purse, a packet in my wallet, a packet in my camera case, a packet in my computer bag, and a packet in the glove box of my car.

2.     Bar soap in a tin 

There’s just something about bar soap that makes it easier to use than the soap flakes. It’s so much quicker to work it into a rich and foamy lather, but the trade off is that you’re left with a damp bar of soap that you have to tote around. For that reason, I don’t use this method very often, but I do have a few tins of soap slivers lying around for backup purposes.

• Step 1: Find a tin. (This may involve eating some Altoids. A co-worker actually gave me this empty mint tin over the summer after I told him about my soap dilemma. Thanks Steve!)

• Step 2: Find soap that fits in the tin. (While it should be possible to cut a small piece of soap off a bigger bar, this is something that I haven’t attempted yet—mainly because the combination of me and large knives usually results in an emergency room visit complete with stitches. Since I’ve been lucky enough to pick up small samples of soaps from various places that fit perfectly in my tins, I've thus far avoided the need to have to cut up a bar.)

3.     Tiny bottles 

This has become my go-to method, as I prefer the feel of liquid soap. It’s also the one that includes the least amount of prep work, which is always a plus for me.

• Step 1: Buy a tiny bottle of soap. (Or alternatively, buy a tiny bottle and fill it with soap.)

I like that Dr. Bronners makes their castile soaps in 2 oz. bottles. I’m able to get them locally at Target, Whole Foods, and specialty shops, but they’re available online as well. 

I love these so much that I’ve started buying them in bulk! I keep one in my purse and one in my travel bag because it also makes a great body wash. I have also started hiding them in places that I go often. I keep one at work, and I have one hidden under the sink at my parent’s house. I think I’m going to start stocking them at friend’s homes soon, as I always have trouble remembering grab my soap from my purse when visiting people. (And I don't want to make a habit of having to go through people's showers to find a soap—any soap—that doesn’t contain methylisothiazolinone.) 

Getting used to carrying around your own soap is one of the hardest adjustments you’ll have to make with this allergy. But with a little planning, you can easily eliminate your risk of exposure from restroom soap dispensers. 

Now if only we could figure out a way to outlaw public restroom air fresheners!