When Food Attacks

A long time ago, I went to school with a little girl who wasn't me.

What made this girl remarkable was that she was allergic to milk.

SERIOUSLY.ALLERGIC. to milk (or anything in the family of dairy). Her stomach would hurt, her nose would bleed, she would start vomiting, and all other kinds of unpleasantness would befall her if she drank milk.

Me being all of in the second grade, I didn't understand the enormity of her allergy, but I did understand this: THE LUNCH LADIES DIDN'T BELIEVE HER.

It was incredible in only the ways life experiences are when you live them but lack adequate words to explain them so other people can truly understand the sheer magnitude of horror to which you were not only a witness, but a helpless bystander:

Every day, this poor girl would patiently return her milk, explain her plight, and every day, the minute her back was turned, one of these ladies, would turn up her nose, and say, "I have never heard of such a thing. She's making it up."

Now, I have not in the past nor will I in the future, claim that I attended the most enlightened or progressive school in America. However, even my seven year old brain knew these ladies were wrong. I knew they were wrong in how they were handling the situation, how they were talking about this girl behind her back, and for not believing her doctor. However, even if I had told anyone, no one would have believed me (it was the 1980's and kids did not have a voice at that school).

This young girls mom spent months arguing with the lunch ladies, the lunch aides, and the school secretaries about her daughters allergy because they were all smarter than the allergist...a little bit of milk now and then wasn't going to kill her (the truth was, yeah, it could have).

Every now and then, one of the lunch aides would have the bright idea that this girl "was.going.to.drink.her.milk." Fortunately, mass episodes of vomiting and being lit up by the girls mom put a (rather sulky) but final end to the milk drinking.

Fast forward twenty-five-ish years, knowing what I know about food allergies, my heart aches for that little girl. I would like to think that the world has become more educated about food allergies since I have left second grade, but my experience is that as a whole, society still makes people with food allergies feel like they have done something wrong.

My kids go to school with kids who have peanut allergies, gluten intolerances, and who are lactose intolerant. The schools, like society, and food stores, make very little accommodations for these kids.

In October, I was diagnosed with severe lactose intolerance. So severe, in fact, I now carry an EPI pen with me. The journey has not been fun, but it has been informative.

Here is what I have learned:

PEOPLE BELIEVE WE MAKE UP OUR FOOD ALLERGIES. Duh. No. We don't. At the end of the day, it's your problem, not ours, but us food allergy suffers would appreciate it if you kept your opinion to yourself and didn't tell us to...

JUST EAT IT...That Little Bit Of The Food You Are Allergic To WON'T HURT ANYTHING.
Hives itch. Stomach cramps hurt. Bloody stool, not so fun. Body aches that feel like Sidney Crosby beat you with his hockey stick, not so great.

WE WILL KNOW WHAT IS IN FOOD BY OSMOSIS No. We aren't mind readers. We read labels carefully and are freaked out that there is no longer any real food in the stuff we eat anymore. However, if we come to your house, we need to know if the pasta is gluten free or if you used three kinds of cheese in that new dish you cooked. We're not being rude; we're trying not to cut the visit short with a trip to the ER.

AT THE END OF THE DAY, SOME PEOPLE WILL REFUSE TO ACCOMMODATE PEOPLE WITH ALLERGIES/INTOLERANCES. Ultimately, we are responsible for what goes into our body, so it's best to have always have a back up plan when are visiting places where food will be served. I have learned this lesson the very, very hard way. After one too many close calls and too many emergency trips for Benadryl, this is going to be my new mode of operation.

Knowing what I know now, I wish I could have been a voice for that little girl in second grade.

Knowing what I know now, I can and I will be a voice now. Today.