MY OWN WILL TO BE WELL

When we were cleaning out our house for sale, we found all kinds of notecards Mom had written. She was splendiforously organized. I have trouble keeping my own schedule straight and I could never do it without Google Calendar, but Mom was amazing. She kept four of us organized and that was before the days of computers. Her secret? 3x5 notecards. 

Here’s a notecard she made identifying my allergies. Stapled to it is the handwritten note from our allergist, Dr. Kooistra in Madison, which includes the same list. She’d rewritten it, just for good measure. That’s how organized she was.

As I look over the list, I’m catapulted back to my allergy days. Most everything made me sniffle and sneeze and break out in a big, itchy rash. Playing hide-and-go-seek was a nightmare for me. I’d emerge from the shrubbery in which I’d been hiding, covered in red welts. “It’s nothing,” I’d casually say to the neighbor kids and then when they weren’t looking I’d scratch my legs until they bled.

I recall the first time they took us to Dr. Kooistra for allergy testing. They injected our backs with all the possible allergens. My sister, Kathy, came out pretty much allergy-free but I was diagnosed with the entire list you see on Mom’s 3x5 and boy, did my back itch! The only things that didn’t illicit an allergic response from me were “cat” and “dog.” Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us have indoor pets so what good was that, anyway?

The entire natural world messed me up. Grass, trees, pollen—why would my body react against these and other organic things? Why wouldn’t they heal me and connect me to the earth? It was like my body was rebelling against the whole planet. 

I would perform award-winning sneezes every time I’d step outside. My poor nose was so overworked that it would bleed routinely. I got to be only too proficient at stuffing Kleenex up my nostrils and waiting patiently for the bleeding to stop. By the way, this is is not a good way to be cool when you’re a kid.

The allergies caused asthma and there were a few times when it got so bad, I had to be taken to the emergency room to be put on oxygen. Imagine running around the block at top speed and then putting a wet towel on your head and trying to catch your breath through it. That’s how I remember an asthma attack feeling. There’s nothing more terrifying than not being able to breathe.

So we beseiged my problem head-on. In addition to taking allergy meds, I had to made drastic life changes. Dust, the doctor told us, is in stuffed animals. No! Not my stuffed animals! This was the most tragic loss of all. Mom was nice enough to let me keep them but we had to wash every lovable stuffed critter, then cram it into a big plastic bag, which was kept downstairs in the toy room. Each week, just two of my  pho fur friends got to hang out with me while the rest waited their turn in the lonely,  suffocating bag. On Sunday, I’d take the two down and switch them out for another two. They were dreadfully sad to be put away. Their penetrating glances seared through the clear plastic and I’d have to avert my eyes to diminish the pangs of guilt.

If it weren’t for Mom’s notecard, however, I don’t think I’d even remember all the things I used to be allergic to.  Aside from the occasional spring sneeze, I’m allergy-free now. Why? Well, I did I endure four years of allergy shots. They also say you can outgrow and outrun your allergies.  I think I did both as I lived in a number of different climates for a decade after college.

As the laughter yoga professional I am today, I can also assert that mind-body medicine is powerful. Our thoughts affect our bodies. Therefore, I’d like to believe that my own will to be well has helped my allergies fade away. In particular, I’ve sought to make peace with the earth instead of reacting against it as I once did. Indeed, all that time climbing trees and making friends with them really paid off!