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I just had an allergy test that I’ve been waiting more than a month for after a strictly terrifying experience in May that sent me to the hospital, saw an IV put in my arm (and left my right arm swollen and unusable for a week), and now has me carrying an Epipen with me everywhere I go for the rest of my life as a result of an anaphylactic reaction to a Happy Planet Energy Shot.

I foolishly thought that I would find out what foods I’m allergic to, but the allergist apparently had other ideas and tested me instead for common environmental allergens and the couple of foods (kiwi, mango and avacado) that I’ve noticed reactions to in the past.

So now I know exactly what I already knew – I’m allergic to grass, cats and avacado, with a good likelihood of kiwi and mango, since the samples he has available are extracts and he said I would need to come back with fruit in hand for a fresh scratch test.

On the kind of bright side, I don’t think I’m capable of getting a tattoo, considering all my squirming and foot stomping protestations as he scratched my back (and grossed me out). At least the doctor advised against it. Maybe I can somehow work myself up to it, since I’ve managed to get several piercings in my lifetime and survive. I had been trying to figure out whether or not I could get a tattoo soon, so I guess now I have my answer, at least for the time being.

Now I have to go and get a blood test to find out what foods I’m allergic to. I really don’t understand the medical system sometimes… Obviously what I need to know about are my food allergies, so that I don’t DIE. But good to know that I shouldn’t be mowing any lawns any time soon.

Writing Scared

June 10, 2012

I’ve realized something lately. Well, “realized” may not be the right word. More like admitted something to myself recently.

I’ve been avoiding writing. Not because I don’t love it. In fact, I’d say it’s precisely because I love it.

I’m somehow overcome with the fear that I won’t be good enough, that I’ll mess it up, and that it won’t be fun or enjoyable anymore.

I’m already well aware that at times writing can be incredibly frustrating, but I still love it through those periods and experiences (much like I still love my cat even when she bites me maliciously or pukes on my floor). I’m just scared to actually realize a life-long dream. I think I’m worried that once I have, I’ll be left to wonder “Now what?”

The reality is there will always be something else ahead, which is one of the huge draws of writing for me because I crave change and evolution (as my resume of happily collected jobs will no doubt attest to).

Well, I’ve had my leave of writing, and I’m ready to get back into the swing of things and rekindle the wordsmith in me. I guess on the bright side, I have been writing more lyrics lately than I was during the first two semesters of school, which is something that I appreciate and revel in. I’ve also been focusing more on singing lately, but I think I just need to work on balancing these two passions more.