When I became a teenager, some strange changes started taking place in my body. These were not the expected changes, like a screechy voice or hair growing all over my face. That happened as well, but these other changes were even more distressful. I started sneezing, even though I was not sick, and my skin got itchy in strange spots. My eyes would water for no apparent reason, and I occasionally had trouble breathing. Once, the breathing got so difficult that my parents took me to a doctor who, upon examination, informed my family that I was having an asthma attack, likely triggered by my recent onset of allergies. I was given an epinephrine shot and admitted to the hospital for a few days to ensure that I did not also have pneumonia, and once I had the all clear, I was sent to an ear, nose, and throat doctor so that he could put me through a battery of tests to determine what things I was now allergic to and to set up a regimen to desensitize me in order to help prevent future related asthma attacks.
The allergist used my arms and back to expose me to several different allergens, which involved small injections in a mapped out pattern all over my skin. I returned later so that they could measure my reactions, and it was determined that I was allergic to cottonwood trees, sage brush, and cigarette smoke, all of which were a part of my everyday life because of where we lived and the smokers in our family. From that point on, any time someone wanted to smoke, I or they would have to leave the house. In time, the reactions to cottonwood trees and sage brush were lessened, but to this day, whenever I am around cigarette smoke for any duration of time, I begin to feel ill. Just the same, the allergist made a huge difference in my life.
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