I’ll Take a Tub of Oatmeal with a Side of Cortisone, Please

Apparently, an entire secret bunker of prescription drugs and over-the-counter anti-itch medication isn’t enough to stand up to my own immune system because Saturday night, the insurgent histamines attacked again. They must have been pretty pissed off that I had almost succeeded in crushing their initial rebellion because they came back. With. A. Vengeance. Sounds like an action movie. To be quite honest, I felt like I was living out every three-word title in Steven Seagall’s illustrious movie repertoire. Above the Law, Hard to Kill, Marked for Death, Out for Justice, On Deadly Ground, Fire Down Below, Half Past Dead, Out of Reach, Into the Sun, Today You Die.

Not quite sure how I got myself into this situation again. The first time, the doctor had warned me that even with all the medicine, itchiness would come back from time to time, but just in little patches. Whatever silly thing caused the allergic reaction was probably gone by now, but the body is simply going through a normal post-allergic reaction process. But Saturday night was a full-blown attack. I had been careful to watch what I was eating, sticking with mostly non-allergy causing foods and avoiding like the plague those things I had eaten on the day of the outbreak, even…bread. That definitely didn’t leave very much to eat except,well, pretty much nothing. Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that doughnut for breakfast with my coffee. Or those hard-boiled eggs with soy sauce and sriracha. And I can’t be allergic to potato chips. I just can’t. That would just suck. LOL!

Anyway, the attack sent me back to the hospital looking and feeling like a freaky leper. Let me tell you, if you ever find yourself bored on a Saturday night, the ER is the place to be. The place was, what ‘s the word? Bumpin’. The place was so packed it puts a 2001 giant circus to shame. When you get to talk to the woman in pink and white with the clipboard, you better look and act like you belong there, otherwise you may as well go home, because ain’t no way you’re getting in, chump. The wait for general admission was, by my personal count, almost four hours. However, if you rolled up to the curb of the ER flossin’ the flashing lights, sporting oxygen masks a la MJ, and had two or three personal escorts, yo, VIP, let’s kick it. Lots of belligerent, agressive voices absolutely insisting they have to get in, flashing lights, people running back and forth. Drama. Action. Saturday Night is live in the ER.

Four hours in the waiting room doesn’t go by fast, even with the football game playing on a 19” tv mounted to the ceiling in a very awkward back corner, a 10’x10’ “patio” for fresh air that reeked of cigarette smoke that couldn’t escape the brick walls that enclose it, and bars that offer every sort of snack or drink you could ever want, except that every single one of them flashes a nasty red “sold out” except for Mountain Dew and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, which I would have inhaled like a ziploc baggie full of cheese curds, except that who knows? I could be allergic that ridiculous nuclear power plant runoff red dye that makes them “flamin.” *sigh* Scattered all over the not-on-purpose retro 50s furniture, an entire newsstand’s worth of magazines. From 2003. Did you know that tawny peach was the must have cheek color for Spring 2003?! Now I do.

rolled oats for breakfast
can’t look at oatmeal for breakfast the same way

The doctor gave me another round of delicious drugs, wrote me a more potent prescription and recommended that I take lukewarm baths in oatmeal. Yes, until these blasted histamines calm their hyper-wired selves down, I get to zen out like a Quaker on a spa vacation. Thankfully, I don’t have to cook up a tubful of regular old oatmeal, since there are actually things out there that are specifically designed for oatmeal baths. I mean, I couldn’t really imagine myself sitting in a giant bathtub full of lumpy bumpy steel-cut oatmeal swirled with cinnamon sugar. Okay, I am thinking about it right now. Right this second. And the image in my head is just not pretty.

The thing is, I eat oatmeal for breakfast fairly often. But after these baths, I just can’t look at my bowl of oatmeal for breakfast the same way. Maybe I should expand my oatmeal palate a little and add some fruit or something. Or maybe I’ll just eat yogurt.

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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

1 djjewelz November 25, 2005 at 8:30 pm

Wait, you went to Vanguard, Ivar or ER? :)

And on the subject of GV2001, I was JUST reminiscing about GV @ http://www.giantvillage.com with their videos. lol!

Hope all is well and Happy post-Thanksgiving!


2 2-minute Noodle Cook November 25, 2005 at 10:24 pm

Oatmeal baths sound really messy! Have you tried a pine tar soap (or equivalent bath gel) to relieve the itches? Works for me :).

Did you by chance add seaweed flakes to your eggs, use a sauce containing dried shrimp or perhaps anchovies, seasoned food with iodised salt or eaten something with food code from 400 to 407 (seaweed thickeners in creams/sauces/flour products), or 127 (iodine based red colour in sauces/jams)?


3 U November 25, 2005 at 10:31 pm

I’ve done the oatmeal baths before. Doc’s orders: every day before going to the lab, ahhhhh. That was the best time of my life.


Oh yeah, sorry to hear about The Return of the Hives. Are there any oatmeal restaurants that you can review?


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