Anaphylaxis of evil: ALLERGY WEEK (National Post, September 26, 2006)

What's it like to go into anaphylactic shock? Is a snake a good

alternative when cats make you sneezy and dogs make you wheezy? And hasn't every asthmatic faked it at least once? Get right up in the runny noses of the hyper-sensitive and the histamine-

challenged as we explore the other side of allergies this week.

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The first indication that our son, Jonny, had allergies occurred when, at the age of about 15 months, he got sick after eating chicken a la king (for anyone under the age of 50, this is basically creamed chicken with peas served over toast). I didn't think anything of it, but when, a few weeks later, it happened again, by process of elimination I realized it must be the peas.

It wasn't long before we learned that Jonny was even more sensitive to peanuts. The slightest contact made him violently ill, and caused swelling of the face, lips and tongue, not to mention his breathing passages. At the time, we were not aware that a peanut allergy could be instantly lethal, so were not as frightened about it as we should have been.

As I would soon discover, peanuts are not really nuts; they are -- like peas -- legumes and allergies to one often implies sensitivity to the other. This was borne out in an odd way on a family trip to Arizona when Jonny was about 17. The four of us -- my husband Ronny and I, daughter Joanne and son Jonny -- ate dinner at a BBQ chicken franchise whose proudly advertised singularity was its use of mesquite wood instead of charcoal. We all ate exactly the same meal, but only Jonny felt sick afterwards. After a bit of sleuthing I found out that mesquite is not a typical wood, but rather a kind of legume linked to the pea family. I was impressed that the allergic reaction could be transmitted in such a seemingly innocuous way as fumes!

No matter how vigilant parents try to be, and no matter how well-educated the allergic child is about his fragility in this area, mistakes happen. When he was 11, Jonny accepted a homemade cookie at a friend's house. He of course knew to ask about peanuts, but the friend's mother wasn't around, and the friend insouciantly vouched for them. It became instantly clear after the first bite that it had been made with peanut butter. Jonny was very sick, but didn't call me. Afterward, his friend gave him an aspirin, and he took it. He came home on his own, told me he had had a peanut incident, mentioned the aspirin and said he would take a nap. This wasn't unusual. The unremitting waves of vomiting that followed any contact with the allergen always exhausted him.

For some reason I became uneasy after about 10 minutes and checked on him. Perhaps it was the idea of the aspirin that bugged me. I had no idea whether aspirins in such a situation were benign or contra-indicated, but it was an unknown -- and there were no computers for instant answers in those days. Jonny wasn't asleep, but wasn't really awake either. His breathing was laboured and ragged, his colour was bad, his eyes were glazed and he seemed dazed.

Now I was frightened. I helped him up and we were at the doctor's office within five minutes. (I had deliberately chosen a doctor in my area for exactly that reason.) The doctor took one look at him, and prepared a shot of adrenalin. He administered it, followed by two more with an hour's rest in, between before he felt comfortable letting Jonny go home. From the gravity of the doctor's expression and his constant attendance, I knew I had not been overreacting.

Parents today are far better informed about potential medical dangers to children than we were. At the first sign of an allergy, a modern mother would have been reading any one of a hundred books on the subject (I never read any, just listened to my doctor, a pediatric generalist), attacked the Internet for every scrap of information, joined chat groups, consulted with friends and pediatric doctors trained in precisely that specialty. As a result, this crisis can be handled more proactively.

Looking back, I marvel at my ignorance. And I am grateful that in spite of it, I had that instinctive hunch when the situation could have ... well, let's not go there. Jonny had more luck. With the years, his allergy got better. We are hoping his two daughters, still too young to be sure, are luckier still, and can look forward to an allergy-free childhood full of Cracker Jacks and peanut-butter sandwiches.

z Barbara Kay is the mother of the National Post's Editorial managing editor and peanut-allergy sufferer Jonathan Kay. She writes a biweekly column in the Editorial section.

z Tomorrow: How allergy-friendly are restaurants? And an emergency room in Leduc, Alta., deals with anaphylactic shock.

NINE-YEAR-OLD DALE WILSON LEARNS THAT CANDY'S NOT ALWAYS DANDY

One day I was in a video arcade. I had just got my Grade One report card. I was playing lots of games and having lots of fun. There was a candy claw. The candy claw would pick up candy. My mom asked the video arcade worker if there were any peanuts in the candy claw. He said no, so my sister and I played with it.

We left the arcade a little while later. My mom drove to the bakery. My mom went into the bakery while my sister and I were eating our candy. I picked up a peanut butter candy that the candy claw had given me and I ate it.

When my mom came out of the bakery I said my throat was itchy. My mom said "Dale let me see the wrapper." It said "peanut butter candy" on it. I asked my mom if I should take my EpiPen, but she said no just take a Benadryl. (This was a mistake. The doctor said even if I was close to the hospital I should take my EpiPen.) My mom said to drink lots of water. She drove to the hospital while I drank lots of water. On the way to the hospital my throat felt like it was closing off. I asked my mom if I was going to die. She said no. I was really scared.

We got to the hospital and went to emergency. The doctors put a big needle into my tummy with medicine. They got me into a bed and gave me some pills. They tasted horrible. I don't like taking pills and I threw them up, so they gave me an IV, which really hurt.

They moved me to a private room. I only got a Popsicle for supper. I had to stay in the hospital overnight, and it was very uncomfortable. I woke up the next morning, and they brought me cream of wheat, blueberry yogourt and a banana for breakfast. It was very good, probably because I didn't have any supper the night before.

I went home that morning but I stayed in bed the rest of the day. I tried to go to school the next day but I felt lousy so

I stayed home for the rest of the week. I threw up lots, my whole body ached and I was really tired. Overall it was very scary.

I try to be more careful now. I always ask my parents to check if something is safe. I often ask them two or three times about the same thing. I feel sad sometimes, especially when other people get treats that I can't have.

- Dale Wilson is now nine years old and in Grade Four. She lives in Saskatoon.

© National Post 2006