Remember this? Well the blood test results showed us that his levels were finally low enough to challenge wheat and the doctor was pretty dang confident J would pass. The morning of the test arrived and J and I headed to the doctor's office with a loaf of wheat bread in tow. Before they allow him to eat it, he is given a skin test to make sure he does not react. The knowledge being, if his skin reacts to a scratch with wheat protein exposure then he will most definitely go into anaphylaxis if ingested. J and I were pretty hopeful as we waited the fifteen minutes to see if hives developed on his arm.
Remember this? Well I should have. As we neared the seven minute mark I could see his arm starting to get red. At the ten minute mark he had small hives. At the fifteen minute mark they were huge. The doctor checked him and told me we would not be able to challenge wheat. I could feel myself losing it so I excused myself to the hallway to take some deep breaths and stop the tears forming in my eyes from falling. I stepped back in the room, but as the doctor continued to marvel over the size of the hives I ran from the room making it just outside the door before ugly sobs wracked my body. The doctor followed me and apologized for my distress and told me to take all the time I needed; they would watch J.
When I could wipe the tears off my cheeks and keep them off, I walked into the room and knelt by J's chair. I asked if he understood what it meant to have hives on his arm and when he did not, I explained we could not challenge wheat because he would go into anaphylactic shock. We talked about how disappointed we both were and that it's okay that nothing has changed because he is the best little boy and we are blessed with plenty of other delicious things to eat. Still...it's okay to be sad.
After watching our reaction, the doctor has suggested we no longer rely on J's annual blood work as a gauge for him. We will now add skin tests to his annual visit so we will have visible results in real time. That will be better for all of us.
Remember this? Well I should have. As we neared the seven minute mark I could see his arm starting to get red. At the ten minute mark he had small hives. At the fifteen minute mark they were huge. The doctor checked him and told me we would not be able to challenge wheat. I could feel myself losing it so I excused myself to the hallway to take some deep breaths and stop the tears forming in my eyes from falling. I stepped back in the room, but as the doctor continued to marvel over the size of the hives I ran from the room making it just outside the door before ugly sobs wracked my body. The doctor followed me and apologized for my distress and told me to take all the time I needed; they would watch J.
When I could wipe the tears off my cheeks and keep them off, I walked into the room and knelt by J's chair. I asked if he understood what it meant to have hives on his arm and when he did not, I explained we could not challenge wheat because he would go into anaphylactic shock. We talked about how disappointed we both were and that it's okay that nothing has changed because he is the best little boy and we are blessed with plenty of other delicious things to eat. Still...it's okay to be sad.
After watching our reaction, the doctor has suggested we no longer rely on J's annual blood work as a gauge for him. We will now add skin tests to his annual visit so we will have visible results in real time. That will be better for all of us.
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