immunology ovenbird In a clinic at the local children’s hospital she is being tested for an allergy to a specific antibiotic. A year and a half ago she woke screaming in the night, saying her throat felt like it was full of glass. I peered in with a flashlight and found her tonsils inflamed beyond anything I thought possible and covered in a sticky web of pus. She was diagnosed with strep throat and sent home with antibiotics. A few days later the rash started–patches of hives that grew and spread until they were covering ninety percent of her body. It was so itchy and painful that she couldn’t wear clothes. It covered her face and the bottoms of her feet. I spent the days getting her in and out of warm baking soda baths, but there was little relief. The rash was acute for weeks and took almost three months to fade completely. We were referred to an allergist and today, seventeen months after the initial incident, we finally had our appointment. We waited seventeen months just to have someone give her another dose of the potentially offending antibiotic and send us home after she didn’t experience anaphylaxis in the first hour. If she develops a rash in the next twenty-four hours we’ll have to go through the same nightmare we endured last time but, apparently, this is the only way to see if the rash was caused by the drug or by the virus itself. So I wait helplessly to see if she will be spared or if her immune system will mistake a benign visitor for a burglar and attack. I want to sing her body a lullaby, send her T-cells to sleep, rub their backs and tuck them in with their favourite stuffed animals, and open every drawer and door to prove there’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s nothing here. See? Just go to sleep. Please, just go to sleep. 260127 ... epitome of incomprehensibility (The title and beginning made me think this was a dream where you had to diagnose something, and I only realized halfway through that it was real. It sounds nightmarish. I hope she isn't allergic to the medication.) 260127 what's it to you? who go blather from