My top 4 most surprising triggers of 2017

One of the most frustrating aspects of mast cell disease is every patient has different triggers. The only way to learn is trial and error – it’s less like learning to ride a bike, and more like trying to run through a minefield. Oftentimes, success is measured by how many days in a row you’ve managed to stay out of the hospital.

Last week marked the two-year anniversary of my diagnosis. I’ve learned more about mast cells than most doctors, and yet, every day feels like a narrow escape. Even when I feel fully prepared and hyper vigilant, my mast cells surprise me – less like someone jumping out and shouting boo, and more like a coup d’état. My mast cells are ungrateful haters with a questionably dry sense of humor.

Here are the top four triggers that blindsided me this year:

#1. Eyeglasses

This year, I discovered my mast cells hate plastic – clamps of IVs tubes; the shell of my FitBit; hospital wristbands. While they are not life threatening reactions, the rashes are painful and unsightly. Now I’m reacting to the nose pads of my glasses, even though I’ve worn them for the last four year. Of course, I have contacts… but those are plastic too.

#2 Ureteral stent removal

Need I remind you of my most painful reaction of the year? Of my life? I’ve already covered this in detail, but in short, my mast cells revolted against my ureteral stent REMOVAL. While I had prepared for a reaction to the 8” plastic stent being shoved up my pee hole, my mast cells decided to protest four hours AFTER its removal. And now I’m a urology legend.

#3 Wall art

Leading up to my kidney surgery, I was feeling a bit down, so I ordered a large canvas painting of birch trees to enjoy while I recovered. When it arrived, I unpacked it from its box and leaned it against the wall to admire the vibrant colors. As if I was in the forest myself, the scent of pine filled my lungs and I broke out in hives. The frame was made of pine, my most severe IgE allergy.

#4 Pumpkin scone

Every fall for as long as I can remember, I have stuffed myself with pumpkin bread and pie. This is why it took me two weeks and three pumpkin scones to realize why I was losing my vision and passing out in my office. The specific culprit? Soy.

Did your mast cells pull a fast one on your this year? I’d be surprised if they didn’t. Share your story in the comments below.

I deserve all the gifts

HOLIDAY PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:

Do not use my illness as an excuse to not give me a gift!

In the first year of my diagnosis, holidays were sad and lonely. On my birthday, I received only one card and no visitors. I couldn’t figure out why everyone would let me down on the hardest year of my life. “I don’t want to make you sick,” they said. “I don’t know what you’re not allergic to.”

I cried and accepted my fate. My disease was too complicated to understand. Gifts were just another casualty of my illness.

…until this year, when I created a new support system of compassionate and somewhat quirky friends (more on that later (you can do this too!))…

…and they gave me ALL THE GIFTS.

The smorgasbord I received after surgery this year

This year, my friends lavished me with mast cell friendly gifts: Fiji water, Vanicream, books, homemade food, and even dog poop bags! I literally broke out in hives at their generosity (and that’s okay!). They cared enough to get to know me and the challenges I face each day. They taught me I am deserving not only of gifts, but loving friends.

Now I know we can’t all be as generous as my friends. But truly anyone can give and receive a gift. Some of my most cherished gifts are handmade cards telling me I’m a badass. A little thoughtfulness goes a long way and when in doubt, just ask! It’s really that simple.

In case you missed it last year, check out my gift guide for mast cell disease.

Happy gifting!

P.S. I’ve created a store for my blog! Check out these great mast cell gift ideas. All proceeds go towards my blogging costs – thank you for your support!

When mast cells commit the perfect crime

A new pain became the center of my universe last week. Well, it’s not really new, but I avoided telling you about it, hoping it would go away. I haven’t been able to sleep on my right side for weeks. I ignored it until last Monday when I threw up in my office and burst into tears in front of my boss.

That’s when I decided to go to the ER. I worried my gallbladder was about to rupture, but all of my labs and imaging were normal. At first I declined pain medication, but my pain became all consuming. Every time Twinkle Twinkle Little Star announced the birth of a baby on the hospital intercom, I could only think of pain. “Another ripped vagina,” I thought.

On Wednesday, I was injected was radioactive material to check the functioning of my gallbladder. For two hours, I lay strapped to the scanning bed as my right side stung and throbbed. The radiologist informed me the results were normal. I cried the whole way home, aching and hopeless.

As I pulled into my condo’s driveway, I noticed a woman walking a small, white dog. Its tail bobbed with each springy step. I wiped my tears and smiled for a brief moment, distracted by the dog’s contentment.

As I drove closer, I realized it was my dog. I forgot my neighbor had offered to walk my dog.

On Thursday, I met with a surgeon about removing my apparently healthy gallbladder. We both agreed my mast cells are likely to blame, but there is no evidence. My mast cells are committing another perfect crime. It’s possible gallbladder removal could relieve my pain, but there’s no way to know for sure. Meanwhile, I am losing my sanity (and weight).

I don’t know what I am going to do. Today, the pain is shooting up my back and into my jaw. The holiday season is compounding my hopelessness. Right now, my only consoling thought is imagining giving my gallbladder at my office’s white elephant gift exchange. Luckily for my coworkers, my gallbladder (if removed) will need to sent to pathology. Bah humbug.