Throwback Thurs.- MOVE OVER MURPHY!

Note: This blog was written in September 2011.

Murphy’s Law- Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Murphy is so last year! I would like to introduce you toStephy’s Law.This law states that anytime you take me on a vacation with you multiple things will not go as planned. Not wrong per say, well okwho I am kidding, things go wrong, but usually only minor things.Here I sit in Las Vegas by the pool enjoying 103 degree heat (its a dry hear so I have my fur coat on), and reflecting on our trip so far. Come take a stroll down memory lane with me. Put on those walking shoes, but as I have already stated any trip with me turns into quite a trip.

Lets go all the way back to when Josh and I booked our plane tickets. His company was paying for his so he had to go through their website and we were using saved up miles for my ticket, so I had to go through another. So there we sat each with our own laptops, like the dork-alicous couple we are and carefully picked flights together and even seats together. (Check out that run on sentence) Now fast forward to the airport as were waiting to fly out. The seats on the flight to Atlanta were no where near each other. Josh was in row 37 I was in row 21. I was excited. Yes, folks excited. Although we had been split up, I thought my luck was changing. Usually I was the one who gets the crummy seat at the back of the plane. Josh on the other hand is upgraded to first class. Plus it was only a 30 minute flight, so we felt we could survive apart that long. We end up having to run to catch our connecting flight. We got on the plane and realized there was an isle separating us. So when the lady with the seat next to me got on the plane, we politely asked her to switch. Not a hesitation. Not a thought. She just said “No, I need to sleep.” Well ok then. So Josh and I shrugged no biggie. This is when things get interesting. Two of the dumbest people have obtained the seat behind me. Not surprisingly the sleepy lady turns out to be a ummmm… how do I put this nicely.Ok so the queen bee (or B) had an itch. Well, so the extremely dumb people behind me found something to be extremely funny and started laughing extremely loud. This woke up the ever so pleasant Queen Bee beside me. She first said “Shhhhhhhh”. When that didn’t work she leaned and slammed herself against her seat. I really wanted to turn around and say “ I’m with that guy over there and not her”. Well, the Dummies took the body slam as a challenge. So I was stuck in a passive aggressive war zone for the next 45 minutes.

The next little bit went well. We arrived at the Hooters Casino and Hotel (or the Hooter Hut as I lovingly refer to it) in one piece with our luggage. We went to check in to our room and were told the previous occupants have just checked out (7:30pm) and our room should be ready in half an hour. We decided to grab a bite to eat to pass the time. Eventually, we got a room and decided to stay in and relax. Our room had other plans. Upon opening the door , we were greeted by the sound of a helicopter hovering (our ac) and toilet running. Josh, like the pro he is, takes care of the toilet by get this- jiggling the handle. My hero. He was unable to fix the ac. We were too tired to really care too much. Turns out the sounds of a helicopter hovering is a lot like the sound a train going by- its annoying but you get use to it.

Things again went well for a while. Then I got a tummy bug. No upchucking or anything, just feeling incredibly ill. The kind of illness where you write a list of pros and cons of hurling to decide if you would just be better off getting it over with. The cons won this time. I based my decision on the fact that we were in (yes in) the Hoover Dam and all the people stuck in the tunnel might find a vent and throw me out. So the next few days I took it easy and downed a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. Nothing like pink chalk to make you feel better.

Now on the last day, I am finally feeling better. Thanks Murphy, I mean Stephy. So who wants to travel with me next? If you mention this blog, I will wave my usual fees and all you will have to pay is my travel, lodging, entertainment and eating expenses.

I leave you with this bit of Las Vegas knowledge that I have acquired in the lady‘s room at a casino. “Vegas has the nicest toilet paper. The kind you would buy for your own home.” Now take this tidbit with a grain of salt because prior to this statement the lady also said “Wow, I feel like the stall is moving.”

Viva Las Stephy!

One Hell of a Vet Visit

Ok so I have told you all about my pug and the embarrassing and gross things she does. If you haven’t read that blog here’s the link http://thenuttybrowns.wordpress.com/2013/02/12/a-pug-named-pepe/ . It will help explain a little further why that one vet visit is just another day of complete shame as a dog owner. I resisted the urge to post this, but my hubby who didn’t have to go through the ordeal said I should. So here it goes. Feel free to laugh at my pain.
So Pepe, our pug, has bad habits that you learned about in the last blog. I left one out. It also has to do with poo. It all started back when I was pregnant with Piper and didn’t have Roscoe (our other dog I will get to him in a minute). When out in public, Pepe chooses to poop at the worse time possible. Not only does she poop, but she does it on the move as if nothing is happening. We were at a dog celebration in Uptown Charlotte. We though it was great dog to pay homage to our number one pup. How does she thank us? Buy pooping in the middle of a crowed sidewalk while walking along cool calm and collected.. So at first we didn’t know what was going on until we smelled the stench. Nothing like having to bag your dogs poop in a crowd over a ten foot distance. Josh found the whole thing funny but refused to act like he knew us for a little while.
Let me share a little bit about Roscoe then I promise to explain what happened at the vet. Roscoe is a male but more of a girl than Pepe will ever be. He is a German Sheppard/Mastiff/Sissy mix. We truly love him, but he has some issues. Issue number 1- Low brain cell count take exhibit A Once he “scooted” his way through a brier patch. No he didn’t stop and no I did not check for splinters. Issue 2- Habit for pooping in the middle of the front yard while most of our neighbors are going to work and then in the evening when they are coming home. Issue 3- The only thing he isn’t afraid of is birds that are flying away from him. If they don’t move or come toward him he pees his imaginary pants. Issue 4- He cries if you tickle his feet. Big sissy La La! And issue 5- He loves to rub up and down our couch in a very disturbing perverted way. The couch has taken a restraining order on him. It truly is a dreadful sight. Other than that he is a great dog.
So now on to the vet visit. We get to the vet and I leave the dogs in the car to sign them in. Roscoe walks full force and Pepe stops to smell everything. Not a good combo so I put off dragging them both in as long as I can. When I walk back out to my car, Roscoe is in the driver’s seat and has snotted every square inch of my window. Pepe is barking like crazy.
I finally get them moving the right direction and Roscoe runs Pepe over causing her to barrel roll. I’m pretty sure he was laughing as he did it. The Vet tech came in and said it was time to get their weight. Pepe goes out steps up on the scale and sits. Perfect! Hmmm.. maybe a little too good of a start. Then it is Roscoe’s turn. It takes everything the vet tech and I have to push him up there and hold him long enough to get the reading. By this point he is shaking like crazy and ready to go home. I didn’t have the heart to tell him what was about to happen to him.
We go back to our room. They try to get a fecal sample from Pepe. No luck. So we move on to Roscoe. Although completely embarrassed and shaking he takes it all like a champ. Then comes the nail clipping; Roscoe hates this part. So instead of standing still and just getting it over with he kicks and moves around. As we got to the last nail we smell something awful. Toxic waste worthy. Pepe is pooping and walking around the room like nothing is going on. Then Roscoe kicks as his nail is being cut and starts squirting blood. So one dog is crapping the other is shooting blood.And both dogs are running around the room stirring and spreading the mixture. Complete chaos. I was waiting to be escorted to the nearest door and told never to return. Instead the vet tech said “Well, we have a good fecal sample now” She was also impressed with how little attention Pepe displayed to the act of pooping. If you have seen the movie Ted, you will recognize the line that was stuck in my head “There is a shit on my floor”.
The rest of the visit went well and we are still allowed to come back. I did honestly ask if it was ok to still use them as our vet.
So who wants to take my dogs out in public for me?

Throw Back Tues.- Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad

I know I usually do throw back stories on Thurs. but I wanted to post this one while I remembered it. Josh and I were shopping at a Wine and Beverage Store and he was actually the one who brought up this blog entry. Enjoy!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

 

Bet you’re wondering why I am lying here on the garage floor in a puddle of wine (Bald Head Red to be exact). Well, if you know me well enough this might not seem so strange. I’ll explain anyway though. Let us review the past few weeks- Piper got sick, I closed my shop, a beloved teacher passed away, Memphis got sick with an unexplainable illness, and I am organizing a Natural Living Fair. During this time plenty of good things (more than bad things actually) happened as well, but they don’t explain the wine quite as nicely. Now that the wine makes sense, I have to try to explain the rest.
I wish there was some great event that took place. For example- I was walking into the garage when all of the sudden I was charged by a pink rhino. But that didn’t happen. So here it goes- the truth. I had gone out for a little time by myself. I was in a great mood. One my way home, I stopped by the store to pick up some wine. As I was leaving the store, the neatest storm was starting. The kind where you see the rain moving towards you before it gets to you. By the time I got home, it was pouring. My loving hubby comes out to help me inside. I take off running; wine in hand (still in the bag thank goodness). As I step into the garage, I realize water and flip flops don’t mix and I try to stop. Apparently inertia didn’t get the memo. Kaboom! Down I went, like a lead balloon. (Who buys a lead balloon anyway?) My feet decided it was a good time for a flight lesson and my head and back wanted to experience gravity at its best.
I interrupt this message for a message to my mom- Mom, I am OK. I didn’t even require a trip to the ER. Josh is taking good care of me. Now it was time to lie still and take inventory: a good case of whiplash- check, a bruised elbow-check, a broken right butt cheek- check, dog poo on my back (but most importantly not in my hair)- check, mental note to kill Pepe- check, dignity- oh crap where is that? I can’t seem to find it anywhere.
I am sorry to report one of the three bottles of wine didn’t fair as well as I did. But hey, two out of three ain’t bad.

A Pug Named Pepe

We have a pug named Pepe (pay-pay). Well since she is AKC, I had to pick two names for her, her full name is Pepe Alofa ( a-low-fa) .  It means “baby love” in Samoan.  At the time I gained approval for said pug, Josh was traveling a lot for work. I was living in Florida and he was based out of Texas. Being the female that I am, I used on him my evil powers.  After not seeing each other for a month, I told him I needed “a cute pug to keep me company” while he was on the road.  Pepe was approved of fairly easily. Ha ha gotcha, sucker.

When we moved to North Carolina a few months later, I found the perfect pug breeder up in Philippi, WV (yes, the covered bridge place). Mom and I drove over together. When we arrived at the breeder’s house, we were greeted by a pug. Well, not just any pug, the ugliest pug I had ever set eyes on. She had one eye, teeth missing, and what teeth she still had were hanging out of her mouth. Haggard doesn’t even begin to describe her looks. Plain and simple she was U-G-L-Y!! After looking at her, I began to get cold feet. What if this was my pug’s mom and this was her destiny? Soon the owner came to the door with the two cutest little baby pugs I had ever seen. The first one covered me with kisses and snuggled right into my arms. The second, assumed the most awkward pose as she was handed to me. There seemed to be something… ahem “special” about her. So which one did I choose? Of course I chose, the crazy, weird, “special”, who was also the runt of the litter.  She weighed one pound at the time and had gigantic eyes. I just hoped that maybe she would grow into the bulging eyes.

We took her to Mom and Dad’s house. She immediately bonded with my parent’s dog and they have had a special friendship ever since. At first, everyone “ooooed” and “awwwwed” over my cute pup, but soon the honeymoon was over. We learned just how “special” she was through her bad habits. First, we learned how gassy a small dog can be. I mean she can stink herself out of a room. We call it the “toot and run”. I will elaborate on one extra  gassy event a little later.

The worst habit she has, by far, is eating her own poo. Yes, we have tried everything to try to curb this habit. Every “remedy” just encouraged her to eat faster. Like I said she is special. I have been told this is “normal”.  Let me tell you, it may be common, but it sure as hell ain’t normal! Let me take this grossness a step further. When she burps, we aren’t she what end it came out of. Ewwww gross, I know!!!!!

So back to the gas issue. During her first Christmas, she insisted on eating our fake Christmas tree. We tried a lot of suggestions. We even tried Tabasco sauce.  This did not deter her. Apparently, it made a very tasty condiment and she happily licked every bit off. The next day my sister, Heather, and my future brother in law, Sam, offered to take her in their car on our caravan up to West Virginia for Christmas with Mom and Dad. Thankfully, we followed them or we would have missed the funniest moments ever. All the sudden, while driving full speed on the interstate, Heather and Sam start flailing around and all the windows were rolled down and a green gas came eeeking out of their car (well not really but you get the idea).  Turns out the Tabasco and Pepe’s digestive system were duking it out.  The Tabasco was winning.  There were many more episodes which made for a very entertaining drive. Wish I had a video of it, because you all would have loved it.

As a full grown pup (12 years old), Pepe is still stinking us out and scooping her own poo. We gave up on trying to prevent the gas and poo eating. She has earned several nicknames. There is “Super Duper Pooper Scooper” or “Poo” for short. I know it’s not ok to make fun of overweight people, but we don’t feel that applies to Pepe so we also call her “Chunky-licous”  and “Fat-apotomus”. The truth is we really do love her. Well, ok the real truth is: She loves Josh, Josh loves me, and I love Pepe.

At the time of purchase, I had to sign a “no breeding no showing” contract. I’m glad I did. Who wants the descendant of a crap eating dog? And I’m sure she would rip a big one in front of any judge without thinking twice.

The Lawn Mower Story

I stole this from another blogger. While back in Hampshire County over Thanksgiving, I attempted to read this out loud (after all the kiddos were in bed of course) to my family. I was laughing so hard that I was crying and couldn’t talk. There is a bit of salty language so be warned. Let the story begin….

We have the standard 6 ft. wood fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing  dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence.

Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I’m mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.

It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.

Now I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.

Time stood still.

The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine.

It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of shit lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along in slo-mo and you’re all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block 427 Corvette motor turning 8 grand.

At this point, I’m about 30 minutes (actually, maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can’t let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences…..but Dad always had those piece of shit chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up, grit my teeth and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.

‘Damn!,’ I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!

Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a hi-performance loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest I think ‘Oh God please let me die… Pleeeeaze die’. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.

So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day…..he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.

I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire…..  I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned.

There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.

Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:

1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted.

2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).

3- Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.

4- My left eye will not open.

5- My right eye will not close.

6- The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.

7- My nuts are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.

8- I can turn on the TV in the game room by letting a fart go while thinking of the number 4 (still don’t understand this???).

That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.

The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.

All I Need to Know (and somethings I didn’t need to know) I Learned from My Dad

Today my dad turns 59! I am a “Daddy’s girl” and always will be. When I say ”a daddy’s girl” I don’t mean that he spoiled me and gave me everything I wanted. I have always admired and looked up to him. As far back as I can remember, I loved following him around watching and learning from him. For 32 years, he has helped me evolve into the person I am today. Feel free to send him comments, complaints, and/or suggestions about my behavior. Over the years, my dad has taught me some very important lessons that I would like to share with you.

Lesson #1 Tractor Driving- When I was younger, Dad needed someone to drive the tractor in the hayfield. The lesson I received; “Here’s the brake, clutch, and throttle. Let’s go” That’s it! Mind you there was a baler and wagon hitched up. My sister was given a similar lesson.  Although we might not be champion tractor drivers, we are qualified operators.

Lesson #2 There are Plenty of Fish in the Sea- After a boyfriend and I broke up, Dad talked to me about it on the way to school. He didn’t say “You’re better off” or any other stereotypical responses. He simply said “There will be others” He was right.

Lesson #3 There’s Always Two Sides- This is a lesson I still struggle with. Even if he doesn’t agree with the other point of view, my dad can “see” it. This summer he reminded me to look at the other side, when my 9.5ft. inflatable dinosaur came to live with us. He tactfully pointed out that just maybe Josh didn’t find the dino as funny as I did. And because of that reminder, Josh and I had one of the best arguments of our marriage. If you need a refresher – http://thenuttybrowns.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/rwar-means-i-love-you-dino-style/

Lesson #4 Canoeing I usually tell people “Under no circumstances should you go canoeing with Dad”.  As a birthday gift, I would like to add an amendment to this rule. Just avoid canoeing with Dad while the river is in flood stage or if you don’t want a swim. Canoeing has always (ok not always, let’s say mostly) been therapeutic for Dad and me. Before I would head back to college in Florida or if there was something bothering us, we would go canoeing. I cherish those times with Dad. We both have a way of putting on what our family lovingly calls “the Bailes Blinders” when there is a big problem or something sad. While canoeing, we don’t talk directly about the issue at hand, but we talk about good memories and wildlife and nature we see along the way. By the time we get back to the house, all is right with the world.

Lesson #5 Electricity- For those of you who know Dad, you know the following statement is very scary. All I know about electrical work in a house, I learned from my dad. When Heather and I were little, he would have us hold the flashlight as he worked on the breaker box. On one particular occasion, Dad said to us “If Daddy lights up don’t touch him. Go get Mommy.” So who needs an electrician?

Lesson # 6 Stubbornness- The hayfield tends to bring out the stubbornness in the Bailes Clan. It’s always a good time. One day he told Heather and me, that he had it all under control and would not let us come out to the field. Heather and I did not find this acceptable. We got Granddad’s old green truck. Neither Heather nor I were very good at driving a stick, so we teamed up. There was Dad with the tractor and wagon loading hay (yes just him driving and loading hay bales at the same time) on one side of the field. And there was Heather and I, on the other side, one operating the steering wheel and clutch and the other shifting and operating the radio. Both of us loading hay on the back of the truck. We were pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

Another time, it was just Dad and I out in the field. We both were hot and tired. On the way back to the barn with a wagon loaded down with hay we hit a ground-hog hole and dumped the entire load. I was furious and started throwing bales back on the wagon. Dad said to take a break. I didn’t. So he sat down in the shade and refused to move, until I took a break too. In the end, he won the stubborn war and eventually the hay got loaded back on the wagon and taken to the barn.

Lesson # 7 Laugh at yourself- In high school I was upset with a friend. I wrote an email venting to a different friend and accidentally sent it to the one I was upset with. I wasn’t happy with myself. Dad was in the kitchen and asked what was wrong. I sat down in the hall and told him. Did he say “It will be ok”? No! Did he say “We all make mistakes?” No! He sat down with me and laughed. Before long I was laughing too. I learned you can laugh or you can cry and laughing is the better option.

Lesson #8 Hunting/Gun Safety- Many years ago Dad took Heather and I squirrel hunting. This was our first hunting adventure. Heather and I made as much noise as possible. We both learned shooting non-living things such as cans was way better. But the best lesson wasn’t directly taught to me. Being a witness to this one was way better. My cousin was visiting and we were shooting cans. My cousin picked up the double barrel shot-gun and asked “Do I pull both triggers at the say time?” Dad’s response “Sure” Lesson learned.

Lesson #9 Bug are food not friends- Most of you know Dad has a sophisticated pallet. Growing up we were expected to try everything at least once. Thanks to this rule I have eaten the following but not limited to – ground-hog, squirrel (the same one from our hunting adventure), rattlesnake (road killed by dad that a story for another day), bear, bison, turtle, frog legs, rabbit, snails, caviar, and cicadas (bugs). I now have the same rule for my kids although the list of items they are expected to try are far more normal. Things like asparagus, shrimp, onions, green peppers, etc.

Lesson #10 Life is an adventure- My Dad decided  he wanted to teach outside of the U.S. So he and mom left for a year of teaching abroad. First they went to Taiwan. That was a little nerve racking for my sister and me. Taiwain was not playing well with others at the time. And then there was the crazy boss who took mom’s passport and other import documents. Dad retrieved these items and instead of heading home like I would have, they went to American Samoa to finish out their year. They had a wonderful adventure and I am glad they followed their dreams.

Dad, Thank-you for all you have taught me. Your unconditional love and crazy ways are just two things I love most about you. And all though I’m a little unnerved when I am told by people I remind them of a bald crazy man, I take it as a huge compliment. I kin ye!

(Note: The phrase “I kin ye” comes from the book Education of Little Tree. Dad recommended I read it and it is one of my all time favorite books. “I kin ye” means “I love and understand you”)32

Peanut Free

Note: This is not my usual comical post. This had been a bit of a stressful week. I’ve had a lot of requests to explain all that went on with my son’s peanut allergy. I figured this was the best way to explain it all.

We have known about Memphis’ peanut allergy since before he was a year old. Piper was eating a cheddar and peanut butter cracker. She had taken the top part off to eat. Memphis grabbed the part that still had the peanut butter on it. The second it touched his lips they swelled. He didn’t even have a chance to get it in his mouth. I gave him Benadryl and it went away.  I asked the pediatrician about it and he said to wait until Memphis was a year old “and try again”. I didn’t feel that was the right thing to do. Thankfully Piper had an appointment with her allergist and I was able to talk to him about it. The allergist was shocked and said under no circumstance were we to try again. Just proves you should always follow what you gut says!

A few months later, we had Memphis tested for peanuts and other foods. The skin test showed instantly that he was very allergic to peanuts. The bump got so big it took over other bumps. He was on the line for tree nuts, beef, and dairy. They sent him for a blood test next.  For two weeks we had to avoid all four of those foods until the blood test came back. It’s pretty hard to find food that doesn’t contain or isn’t contaminated with those items that a less than 1 year old will eat. His blood work showed he was only allergic to tree nuts and peanuts. (By the next year he had out grown the tree nut allergy.)

My first trip to the grocery store after his new diet restriction took about 2 hours and involved a lot of tears. Over the years I have gotten a lot faster at reading labels and I don’t cry anymore.  For those of you who are lucky enough to not have knowledge in the food allergy area, there is a lot more than looking at something to see if it is peanuts or peanut butter. You have to read labels. If an item has no peanuts in it, it doesn’t mean it’s safe for Memphis to eat.  There is cross contamination. Even if a food is made in the same factory as something else that has peanuts, it could be deadly for Memphis. A bag of chips that was safe for him last week may have a new label this week stating there could be cross contamination. And then there is peanut flour. It’s in things like soup.  Peanut oil (like Chick-fil-a uses) is technically safe, because the protein has been removed, but there is always a danger of a small piece slipping through.

We began taking Memphis to Duke Children’s Clinic about 4 years ago. They have a Food Allergy Clinic (specializing in peanuts) that is known worldwide. Dr. Wesley Burks is widely known for his work with peanut allergies. He started a peanut trial. If a child has a peanut allergy that isn’t too high and not too low they get participate in a study. You are given either a placebo or a very small dose of peanut. As time goes by the peanut dose is upped. Eventually if it works right your body will learn to not to overreact. If you get the placebo the first time around you are guaranteed the real thing the next time. Memphis has always been just a tad too low to get in on the study. Very bittersweet!

Every year we go back to Duke and have him tested so we can keep an eye on his levels. One year he can test high and the next low. The level of histamine in your blood changes from year to year. There is no clear answer. This past spring Memphis’ skin test was significantly smaller (still there though) and his blood test showed an even lower level.  For most people it’s the other way around (skin test lower than the blood test, but Memphis is just as odd as his mom). Because the two tests were low enough the doctors at Duke suggest we do a “Peanut Challenge” to see if he had out grown his peanut allergy. Josh and I agreed that it seemed like a good idea.

Last Tuesday, I took Memphis to Duke for what we hoped would be the last time. We set out for our 2 hour drive at 5:30am. His appointment was at 8:30am, but we were worried about hitting rush hour traffic. Memphis was excited and talked almost the whole way. He loves going to Duke. Their children’s hospital is amazing. He was also excited to try peanut butter for the first time.

We got there with plenty of time to spare. At first they didn’t have any rooms available and asked us to wait in the lobby for a while, which was fine because they have movies and toys there. Within 10 minutes we were called back. They checked his weight and blood pressure and temperature. Everything was normal.

We got set up in his room. Not long after the Nurse Practitioner, Ginger, came in. She is the one in charge of the food challenges. We also had an assistant and pharmacy tech. Those three remained with us for the entire time. There was also a Doctor and med student at our beckon call.

Memphis was first given a pea sized amount (maybe smaller). He loved it. Most peanut allergy kids don’t like the taste and/or texture, but he loved it. We waited 10 minutes. I was excited because his lips didn’t swell on contacted. There was no reaction so Ginger upped the dosage and we waited another 10 min. No reactions. She up the dosage again and there was no reaction. Then we got to the 4^th dosage. Before Ginger could even set her timer Memphis started turning red. We began looking him over for other symptoms. He started coughing and his nose began to run constantly. At this point, he said “I don’t feel good and I don’t want any more peanut butter. It is making me sick.” Memphis then told us he felt nauseous and his stomach hurt. Next he developed hives. They looked like bug bites. There was one on his cheek, one his back, one on his tummy, one on his thigh, and one on his calf. Interestingly, all the bumps were on his right side. Benadryl was immediately given and they took his vitals. His blood pressure wasn’t great, but out of the danger zone either. He was wheezing a lot and beginning to have trouble breathing. They did a pulse ox (the red glowing E.T. thing that measures oxygen in the blood).  It was low enough they wouldn’t show me and I didn’t bother fighting it. I could tell it was incredibly low. He was turning blue. We couldn’t give the Benadryl time to work, because he was going downhill so fast. So epinephrine was given. This was all a blur; I remember hearing murmuring of being prepared to intubate him if the epi didn’t work within a matter of seconds. Thankfully in 10 seconds, Memphis began to turn around. The redness left his face and eyes. His pulse ox went up to 92 and the staff was very happy. To give you an idea, normal is around 98 or higher. 85 is danger zone. I still don’t know how low Memphis’ was, but I do know it was below 85.

Next Memphis was given a nebulizer because he was still wheezing a considerate amount.  They were going to give him 5 minutes with the nebulizer and check him again. If he had not improved another shot of epi would be given. Thankfully he a lot better and his pulse ox went up to 99.

At first we were told, we could go home in two hours. The staff checked on him every ten minutes. Memphis asked to watch Scooby Doo. One nurse went and brought us every single Scooby movie on the floor. Memphis was afraid to let go of me so we snuggled on the bed together. We were asked by each staff member that came in if we wanted a blanket or pillow. Both of us were still so shook up that just having each other was enough and we said no. Then one nurse came in and just gave them to us. Another nurse offered to stay with him if I needed to step away for a bit. She acknowledged that I had every right to be scared to death and if I needed to go somewhere and let it out she would stay with Memphis. I just couldn’t let go of him and she said she understood and just to let her know if I needed anything.

 Memphis was getting sleepy from the reaction and Benadryl. So he dosed for the two hours.  At 1.5 hours, the nurse said he was doing so well that that they might let him go early. Ginger came in and explained that in 10% of food allergy patients,  a late secondary reaction can happen. It’s similar to the original reaction just not as severe. Since I was by myself and we had a 2 hour drive with very little hospital options along the way, we made the decision to stay another 2 hours. A little bit later one of the nurses came in and said we could sneak out to the cafeteria for lunch. We couldn’t leave the grounds and had to promise to head back to the room if anything changed.

Well, I was in no shape to say no to Memphis, so for lunch he had jello, frosted flakes, chips, and sprite. Half way through lunch, he said his stomach was bothering him. So we ran back up to the room to be checked out.  Everything was fine, but they wanted to give him another dose of Benadryl before we left.  At 2:30pm, he was given the last dose and we were sent on our way. Memphis was given a free puke bucket just in case.

It was incredibly hard to put him in the backseat.  I really just didn’t want to let go of him. I compromised and turned my rearview mirror so I could see him. Every once in a while I needed the reassurance that he was still there and ok. I would quietly reach my hand back and he would grab it. He never once asked why or what I wanted. He never asked me to stop. Even the millionth time I asked if he was ok, he didn’t complain. A few random times he told me he loved me.

Had we not been at the hospital, there is a chance we could have lost Memphis. It made me think about all the things I would miss. I would miss our special way to say “I love you”. I say “I love to infinity and beyond” He responds with “I love you to infinity and beyond and back. I am Buzz Lightyear I come in peace” I would miss his creativity. You give that child an empty box and he can create the coolest fort known to man. I would miss his love of music. How else would I know all the words to songs like “Crazy Train” and “Cricket on a Wire”? I would miss his carefree goofiness. I would miss everything about him. Yes, even his strange habit of stripping off every piece of clothing (even socks) to go poop. So hug your kids if you got them or grab someone else’s and hug them.  They may be annoying and make your hair grey, but every second is worth it.