damn banana

I've never been a fan of bananas (a fanana, if you will). I don't mind the taste and am therefore able to enjoy it in various employs, such as banana pudding or banana nut bread. It's the mushy texture of bananas that engages my gag reflex.

I woke up this morning with a minor cramp in my calf and decided to brave a banana to get all that great potassium swimming in my system. I ate it on the way to work and happily tossed the biodegradable peel (and the last bite) out the window. That peel currently resides somewhere on the the far left side of northbound W. Loop 820, between Chapin Rd. and I-30.

Continuing on, I arrive to work and happily begin making lattes and taking orders in the drive-thru. My nose starts running uncontrollably (a little weird), followed by sneezes, and a slight stomach cramp. I excuse myself off the floor for one minute.

I am back. My body temp rises and I can feel the heat in my face. My nasal passages are completely constricted, though somehow snot manages through. I am growing increasingly miserable.

I excuse myself off the floor again. I dare a look in the mirror and, dear reader, I do not look good. I run my face under cold water in the back room and blow my nose like a banshee. It finally occurs to me: I'm having an allergic reaction to that damn banana.

So, I excuse myself from the store altogether (during our already under-staffed morning rush) and drive over to my allergists' office. Within five minutes they shoot me with an EpiPen (ah, sweet adrenaline). Before the visit's over I also receive a steroid shot, a Clarinex, an antihistamine nasal spray, and a skin test (which semi-oddly didn't show a reaction to banana, but could be due to the other goodness in my body at that moment).

In January I'll go back for another skin test. Until then, please do not give me banana bread for Christmas.