One almond, one million problems

"Try one," my buddy told me in my accounting class on November 6th, 2013, putting me face-to-face with a bag of nut clusters. They were small, cubic chunks of almonds, cashews, pecans, and sea salt. They looked damn good, so I needed to try one. My assumption was correct. They were very good, with the right amount of salty flavoring and a beautifully roasted assortment of nuts. I used to loathe nuts as a kid, but warmed up to them in recent years, forming a new liking for Snickers in 2011. "Have some more," he said, holding the bag out in front of me. I took exactly six and scattered them on my desk.

I kept eating them and after about the third cluster my mouth felt itchy. I figured it was a passing thing and kept eating. Then it got itchier. When I was done with the clusters, I asked to go to the bathroom, where I drank a large amount of water. When I returned to the classroom, my mouth was still quite itchy and I began to itch everywhere on my body. My legs, my back, my shoulders, my stomach, my crotch, everywhere felt like it was on fire. I noticed small yellow hives forming. I was having an allergic reaction.

It only worsened next period, which is a mandatory twenty-five minute study hall before a twenty minute lunch. While doing math homework, I felt hot, overwhelmed, uncomfortable, itchy, and began to cough. "What the fuck am I going to do?," I thought. Going down to the nurse scared me, leaving it be didn't seem to be a good idea, and I was worried about it not going away until some sort of drug or liquid was injected into me. Finally, I waited it out and the wonky feelings were gone by my math class, which followed after lunch.

I called my mom on the way home and told her. My mother, a registered nurse for two and a half decades, knew right away it was an allergic reaction. When I got home, she did the only logical thing after I told her what was in the nut clusters. She gave me three raw cashews. They went down okay, no immediate soreness or itchiness of any kind. Then came the almond; the lone almond, battered in a sugary glaze. I ate it, winced at its simultaneous bitterness and rocky texture, and continued listening to music. Three minutes later, the itchy throat returned. Informing my mother, she was immediately worried. Even more so when I began to scratch again. My crotch area and stomach felt like it was on fire. I began to sweat, panic, and frantically scratch.

I hopped in the bathtub, with my mom running hot water and baking soda, pouring it all over me. I felt nauseous, weirdly heavy, and increasingly more lethargic. I could feel my eyebrows, eyes, and forehead begin to swell. My lips began to puff up and my mouth became pale. I was sweating and panicking, but couldn't find the energy to speak clearly. I mumbled one word responses, tried to regain my balance when standing up. My mom was worried but calm as a nurse most always is.

"I'm calling 911," she said. "Don't! I'm not going to no goddamn hospital," I replied. I hopped out of the bathtub and stumbled to the hallway before collapsing under my suddenly weighty body. What the hell was going on? Could one almond practically destroy my sense of time and placement? My weight and balance? My mood and my face? The entire thing was unimaginably painful and scary.

I sat cross-legged in the hallway. I began listlessly rocking back and forth trying to keep myself up. My head felt heavy. My nose congested. My whole body going into an odd, heat-induced shock. I was coughing, felt wheezy and shortness of breath (I suffered from asthma when I was younger but ceased using tools like a Nebulizer and an inhaler by age eleven or so). I wanted to lay down. My mom kept slapping me in the back. "Steve, talk to me! Stay with me," she demand. "I'm fine, be quiet, stop hitting me," I said, sounding like Marlon Brando's cotton ball mouth in The Godfather. "You need to stay conscious! Keep talking to me," my mom continued. "I'm fine. No cops. No hospital. I can't...do that," I said, groggier than I've been in recent memory.

Then came the worst part; my vision began to deteriorate. Things began to become abstract. The voice of my mom on the phone with the 911 dispatcher began to grow dimmer and dimmer. Any minute, I was ready to pass out. Everything was a blur, I was worried about everything. Next thing I know (although my mother claims I remained conscious throughout the entire event), my head is in my mom's chest and three paramedics are in my hallway, setting up tubes, numerous cords, and a small, cluttered workstation to keep me on Earth. I can barely see them through my horrid vision, which was largely red, yellow, and white blurs thanks to the hallway light. I felt light-headed, was shaking, had notably low blood pressure, and was given oxygen and four shots ranging from Benadryl and assorted steroids.

"Steve, where are you? What's your address? What day is it? Who's holding you?," were some of the questions the medics asked. I will take this time to note that everyone I met tonight exhibited the utmost medical professionalism that I have yet to see. Especially the paramedics, who clearly had been through this kind of ordeal before.

After about ten minutes of that, I regained enough vision to stand (with the assistance of the medics) and walk downstairs to a large stretcher. My dad, along with three other medics were right near the stretcher. My dad was at work and raced home to see me, his face clearly worried and shocked. Because we work at the same place, my boss called my dad several times during the night to check up on me.

I limply climbed onto the stretcher, imploring the medics with my dazed voice and weighty mouth to make sure my cat doesn't go outside. They strapped me down to the stretcher, covered me in several blankets, and lifted me out. Outside, there was a large ambulance and several neighbors on my driveway, staring at me being lifted out to the vehicle. I was taxied to the hospital in a brisk ten minutes and was given a room where I could relax, be given more IV fluids, some more steroids, and have my blood pressure taken.

I kept thinking, "All this from one stupid almond?" An almond, a miniscule and trivial small nut, could send my body into a stunning meltdown that could've killed me, one of the medics stated. I was in the ER for about two hours before I was discharged. I regained everything slowly but surely, and walked out of the hospital with no assistance. The only thing I was (and still am) reeling from are the 125mg of Benadryl I was given, which made me shake and act as if I was shivering.

This is one of my many blogs I've written with no real purpose other than to inform. As of now, I am doing fine. I'm alert, writing, feeling much better, equipped with a prescription for an unpronounceable steroid and an epinephrine pen (epi-pen), along with my life to go on and my energy mostly restored. I feel great now. 

The reason I write this is to keep you guys informed. The whole time I was going through this - even when I was barely conscious in the hallway - I was mumbling to myself, "what am I gonna tell my friends? What am I gonna tell my friend Sam? What am I gonna do about writing and reviewing?" Under the influence of all these drugs I didn't feel myself being dosed with, for all I knew, I thought these side effects were permanent. The point is that I couldn't stop thinking about how people would react and felt it was my duty to keep you guys informed.

I now have a five day weekend to embrace, with many movies planned and an eight-hour work day on Saturday I do not plan to cancel. Stuff is on the up-and-up now. I can't thank everyone enough for being supportive, caring, and thoughtful to me during this time. Between homecoming king, me being granted with the Sons of the American Revolution award, having the benefit of many students rallying behind me to watch me succeed, and coming close to certain doom from an allergic reaction, I can't say this year has been boring.

I just also want to thank my friends and family, for being the most supportive and loyal group of people I have in my life now. You guys will never understand how much love and respect I have for all of you.

But as always, back to your regularly scheduled programming...