Saturday, November 10, 2007

Close Call

Jess is embarking on a detox diet (no wheat, dairy, sugar) to try to deal with some gastric issues and, as any good girlfriend would, I have agreed to support her by eating everything in the house that is now off limits. It's a tough job choking down the rest of the pumpkin cookies, chocolate pudding and various cheese products, but I try to shoulder the burden gracefully.

Last night we went to New Seasons and I decided to get some granola to go with the massive container of yogurt now sitting in our fridge. They have lots of different granola varieties so I decided to test taste before buying. The first one I tried was called Rainforest Granola. I carefully scooped out one small piece and dropped it in my hand.

I popped it in my mouth and the flavor was good, nutty but sweet. As I was swallowing, I happened to look a bit closer at the container label and see these words:

CONTAINS CASHEWS & BRAZIL NUTS

Crap. Having enjoyed a variety of nuts throughout my life I was surprised to learn last winter--in the middle of a cross country ski trip--that I am violently allergic to brazil nuts. We're talking hives, itching, throat-closing allergic.

OK, I thought, it was just one piece. How bad could it be? I had barely finished this thought when I felt a peculiar tickling in my throat. Less than a minute had passed! I couldn't believe it. I called over to Jess, who was busy getting beans further down the aisle. "Honey, don't ever buy me Rainforest Granola."

"Why?"

I told her about the nuts and what was happening. It was mild but totally discernible and already it felt kind of hard to swallow. I waited a few more minutes and when it seemed to be progressing, I went over to the pharmacy. I explained what had happened and they were only too happy to break open a bottle of Benadryl and give me one. It took a while to take effect, which was probably good since we had to ride our bikes home with our groceries. When the sleepies hit, they hit hard, but I took a power nap and rallied so we could go to the Voices For Silent Disasters performance.

And the moral of the story is, read the label kids! And always carry drugs.

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