"Epi Pen"

Sound cool?

Try this one: "Suspected peanut allergy."

Or this one: "Anaphylactic shock."

Or my favourite: "Call 911 IMMEDIATELY"

I took The Boy to the doctor today for an immunization (a nightmare in itself - he started screaming when we walked in the door and the physican's assistant had to bring in back-up) and to discuss last week's accidental peanut butter ingestion episode.

We were treated to the distinctly unpleasant recitation of all of the words above and more fantastic ones like "throat swelling" and "struggling to breathe." The doctor can't confirm an allergy one way or another, but gave us the name of an allergist for a skin test and, in the meantime, a prescription for Epi Pens and instructions on how to use them.

And now I get to join the ranks of The Frightened Parents. The ones who get to worry about more than just the standard bumps and scrapes. The ones who must explain at every new daycare, classroom, playdate, supper invitation etc. etc. that The Boy must be kept away from peanuts, cashews and all other treenuts. The ones who comb through Hallowe'en candy, who hear ambulance sirens every time they see the ol' PB & J, and who have to be vigilant readers of all things label-ish.

It's very disconcerting. I'm reminded of when we first diagnosed his asthma; with no clear sense of what would set it off, it felt like closed airways and hospital visits lurked around every corner, ready to attack us when we least expected them.

Like then, I have more questions than I have answers. Is it really an allergy? How much would it take to set it off? How will I ever remember to carry an Epi-Pen with me everywhere I go? Will his daycare/school be aware enough (his daycare is still in the Dark Ages and they actually have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the school lunch menu of all things) and will they act swiftly if necessary? What if I slip up and don't ask the hostess about the cookies again?

I'm trying to look at the positives. He's unquestionably ingested food in the "processed in a facility that also processes peanuts" category and been none the worse for it, so he's not ultra-sensitive (at least, not yet). He is old enough to remember to ask about the presence of peanuts in foreign baked goods. He has a natural aversion to them and runs for the hills at the mere scent, so it's not an issue of denying him a beloved foodstuff. And, although we'll undoubtedly be paying for it as we're using the American healthcare system, we nonetheless have access to fantastic allergists who probably won't make us wait six months to get in (or whatever the going waiting list time is in Canada these days).

I know that this could be much worse, and that after the initial shock wears off and we figure out exactly what's going on, we'll develop a management plan and it will become as much a part of our routine as his nightly inhaler dose.

But I suspect I'll still shed a couple of tears and be angry for awhile at having to deal with another condition that brings those heart-battering words:

"Potentially life-threatening."