Allergies

The kitten, who has been sleeping with me every night I am home, curled up on my left hand last night. I sleep in the recovery position, so this meant kitten slept directly in front of my face last night. I woke up, and she was still exactly there.

I have to look this up, but I think kitten fur is less allergenic than cat fur. It’s finer and softer. Then, when puberty hits, they get the thick dander mess that will shed and grow in its annual stages. When Kitten sleeps with me, I wake up with no more or less congestion in my facial orifices than usual. When Tweak sleeps with me, it’s a different story. The first thing I do is swallow Claritin with some leftover coffee or tea.

This stash of Claritin was given me by Iuliana, the PC doctor, last time I went to her. I’d started running (if you’ve been following) and promptly started having major breathing issues. I ran in the mornings, when it was still cool and there were no babas and children out to stop my stride. It was April, and May and the flowers were gorgeous and the pollen count was so high (had there been anyone to count it) you could see it floating through the air.

The only thing I am allergic to is an obscure medication I took for pneumonia when I was 12. Never noticeably to grass, or flowers, or trees, or fruits, or nuts, or milk. Dust maybe, sneezes follow. Boyfriends have often been allergic to things. Animals, all my boyfriends… in fact… huh.

They were all American, and Americans, I recently heard, have more allergies than any other country. Is this for real reasons? Or are American mothers getting paranoid for personal problem reasons?

America has a ton more doctors per kid than most of the world, so instance of finding allergen is higher.

Americans eat a wider variety of foods than most of the world, so instance of encountering allergens is higher.

Awareness is up, their being detrimental is down. They are easy to treat and work great as a thing to complain about at backyard whatever gatherings. Cleaniness is up, and kids rolling in mud is down. . . hm, connection?

Despite my rolling in mud as a kid though, I’m allergic to things in Moldova that I would never be allergic to in America. Cats, pollen, people. Here opens the wives tales about eating bee pollen to acclimate yourself to your new surroundings. It’s intuitive and makes sense like using plaque to clean your cuts does not, which is particularly awesome because the first I only ever heard from hippies in the states, and the second from all women in my village here. Neither has scientific weight, but both make excellent conversation nuggets at backyard whatevers. And that’s what really matters, isn’t it? Good thing my kitten is interesting.