Originally uploaded by Neville_S.
So I had my follow-up appointment with the allergist today. I believed I was going in there for blood tests to determine the cause of the evil ailment that blasted my system earlier this week. Not so, as it turned out.
Instead I got interviewed by yet another doctor, and he asked me if he could do a 'scratch test' on my back. Sounded fair, so he lifted up the back of my shirt and went to town on my back with something resembling a giant nail file. Ouch. And then he stood back, scratched his chin the way doctors do, and declared that yes indeed, my back was rashing up. Cheers for that, doc. But he assured me that it would go down soon enough - and it did.
Next I was shuffled into another room where I was subjected to a breathing test, because there was some concern that these elephant steroids I'm on are giving me asthma. So I huffed and puffed into a tube, nearly knocking myself out in the process, but I was declared in fine pulmonary health. Neato.
Then I was back into my allergist's office and told to cut back on my steroid dosage until at least Tuesday, but to call if I suffer any flare-ups.
"And I can see your face is fatter than when you were here last," says the smiling (and rail-thin) allergist. Cheers for that. The scratch-test doctor chimes in with, "So, have you noticed that you've put on water weight?" - um, no I hadn't - I was a little more concerned about flare up welts that took over my body.
What were they saying - am I fat now?
And so it seems that in the absence of any visible welts or obvious flare ups of any other sort, my illness did not warrant any bloodwork to be taken and I was cleared to go - but to return in 2 weeks for a checkup. Seriously, I'm not worried if they aren't worried - but I think it's fair that next time, we're both armed with scratch test devices. Those things don't tickle.