Diagnosis Confirmed: Feline Dander
Finally this week, at the tender age of 57, I was tested for
allergies. Up until this week I just
figured I was allergic to everything.
The constant (actually chronic is the accepted medical term) post nasal
drip was a giveaway. More recently I
have had more bouts with sinus infections.
My PCP recommended that I see an ENT who did a scopy
procedure on my nasal passages. The
scopy found that I had a deviated something or another (accepted medical term
is actually “something or another”. Go
figure.) Then he ordered allergy testing
to pinpoint the exact cause(s) of my constant adverse sinus episodes.
I’m sure many of my readers have been subjected to the
testing: sticking a number of needles tipped with various allergens into the
arm. My body reacted correctly, which I
was thrilled to learn. I was bit
concerned because I had not stayed up all night cramming for this test. The spots where the bad allergens had been
injected flared up nicely. The
technician was very helpful pointing out what each individual bump meant.
“Okay, this is tree pollen oak, ash, elm and so on*…you have
a mild allergy to a few mold spores. Severe
reaction to dust mites. Nothing for dogs, but you have a severe reaction to
(drum roll and Shakespearean clap of thunder)…cats!”
None of this news was any surprise. Warrior Queen was tested years ago and had
the same results. I long suspected that
I am allergic to my daughters.
Fortunately all three are domestic short hairs. I remember having severe reactions to long
hair cats decades ago: instant congestion, swelled, puffy, itchy eyes, sneezing
and a low tolerance for people with opposing political views. I have not had these physical reactions in
years, although the low tolerance for people with opposing political views is
still strong with this one.
For many this might be a no-brainer. The easy solution would be to find new homes
for our girls. This idea was quickly
dashed.
Easy solutions, like for example bombing the crap out of
North Korea this weekend, might seem attractive in the short term. The problem with short term effects is that
it ends too quickly. It leaves too much
time for doubt and regret later on.
Either we will miss our cats or we end up with severe radiation
poisoning as we struggle to survive in the vast nuclear wasteland that was
formerly the great USA.
Each of our girls is a treasure, even with the occasional
hair ball to clean up. Nothing seems to
bother Nyla: she still wakes me up every morning for her breakfast and then
generally ignores us for the rest of the day until she wants treats. Gigi is young and rambunctious: she has been
a good playmate for Nyla since we adopted her three years ago. Her only bad habit is her use of her sharp
claws on my shin when I am sitting at the computer. I get it that she wants attention, but damn,
those claws are sharper than allergen testing needles.
Then there is Oreo, who has not been well lately. Her plumbing has been clogged up for about a
month now. Her appetite for dry food has
fallen off, but she still picks at her wet food. The vet has given her two enemas so far, but she
is still having problems getting rid of her solid waste (if you know what I
mean). The kidneys are fine. We have started slipping some medication into
her wet food, along with a laxative. We hope to see some solid results soon. **
In any event, the mere thought of packing our girls with
their tiny kitty valises full of kibbles and litter and expecting them to find
their way back to the local ASPCA is out of the question. Their absence would leave a huge emotional
void in our lives.
So we will compromise.
We will invest in various devices to alleviate our suffering. The purchase of a HEPA air filter is being
considered and, who knows, may cut back Warrior Queens asthma attacks. And our girls? They
can continue to live with us in luxury, their staff at beck and call for food
and treats. And keep that litter box
full.
Going forward our cats will, however, have to endure certain
sharp, but good-natured, jabs to their precious pussy psyches from yours truly. For example I may not call them by name, but
rather refer to them as the “allergen factories,” or “portable dander units.”
Such is the price they will have to pay in order to live
here at the pleasure and discretion of their human staff.
*I’m paraphrasing here.
**Please forgive this too easy punch line transgression, oh
Gods of Satire.
(Thank you for reading.
On the other hand I had no reaction to the dog dander allergen. Hmm….)
posted by todd gunther | 9:32 AM
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